Starting Anew
by Starry Bright Light
Summary: Life's a journey of ups and downs for Alex. And living with the Pleasures just wasn't working out. He couldn't live with them trying to control his life. So, the choice was made—he had to get away. Of course, life couldn't be as simple as that... all it took was one simple change to turn life—as he knows it—upside down.
1. New Life

_**Disclaimer:** Umm... do I own Alex Rider? Do you really think I do? Nah. I'm most definitely not Anthony Horowitz, and as far as I know, all the rights belong to him. Yadda, yadda, yadda...  
><em>

**CHAPTER 1: New Life**

* * *

><p>Alex took his seat, tapping at his iPod to erase the last of the evidence. Thanks to a going away present from Smithers, his getaway was almost foolproof. Of course, if someone went and personally checked all the CCTV cameras in the airport from the last three months, they'd find the looped footage. By then, it would be too late though.<p>

His plan hadn't been too hard to pull off. By far, _borrowing_ the different credit cards and ATM card, from Mr. and Mrs. Pleasure had been the hardest. Mr. Pleasure had almost caught him once. Luckily, it was the card he used to purchase his flight on. Eventually the Pleasures would figure things out, and Mr. Pleasure would remember the missing card. They'd track him to the airport, but that was what Alex wanted. To lull them into thinking they had him, while he made his getaway elsewhere. _Borrowing_ the ATM card had been a little more difficult. It had taken weeks of small withdrawals to have enough to survive on, after a few _large_ purchases. He still didn't have enough... he'd have to find another source of cash eventually.

He felt bad, in a way, that he was leaving the Pleasures. They had been welcoming, friendly even, but it had all come across as trying too hard. They had treated him too much like a fragile egg, instead of just as a teenager. A regular everyday teenager. He didn't like the mollycoddling, and as far as he was concerned, the only way he'd be treated normally was to leave everything behind. _Everything_.

Sabina would probably never forgive him for leaving, _if_ they ever caught up with him. She had tried the hardest over the past month, even dragging him around to see her friends once or twice. While Alex had appreciated the gesture, it didn't work for him. Over the past few weeks though, she had turned into less of a potential girlfriend, and into more of an older sister... like _Jack_.

Scowling slightly, he pushed his thoughts away from _her_, and onto the next stage of his plan. With all signs of his presence at the airport erased, except for those he purposely wanted them to find, there was no way they could follow him.

The New York airport had hundreds of flights leaving to hundreds of destinations all around the globe, each day. While MI6—for he was sure that Mr. Pleasure would inform them—could search long and hard, they would never find him, even if they discovered the looped footage.

He doubted that the Pleasures would notice him missing right away. No, they would think anything was wrong until he was well past his unofficial curfew. Sabina might, as she seemed to have caught onto his punctuality, but they wouldn't react fast enough. No one had suspected anything at breakfast that morning, so why would they notice anything in the evening?

One of the flight attendants seemed to take a particular interest in him, since he was flying alone. It annoyed him to no end, but he answered all her gentle inquires, pulling on the cover he had been working on for the last two weeks, that of a teen going to visit his grandparents. Completely normal.

Alex thought it was ironic that he tried to apply the phrase _'completely normal'_ to his life, especially after all he had been through. Completely normal, was not a fifteen year old leaving his adoptive family after only five weeks of living with them. Completely normal, was not a fifteen year old escaping right back to the country that had destroyed his life in the first place. Completely normal, was not a fifteen year old making plans to disappear completely, and live on his own. No, he was anything but _normal_.

The flight attendant didn't seem to notice the ice in his gaze whenever he looked around the cabin, but some of the other passengers did. Oddly enough, the ones to notice weren't his seatmates; instead, it was the toddler sitting with his family just a few rows ahead. Toddlers always seemed to notice things... Alex had to stop himself from purposely glaring at the toddler. The last thing he wanted was a screaming kid for the next seven hours.

He pretended to drift off a couple times, discretely checking his iPod to make sure that the cameras in New York were still playing looped footage. The successfully planted bug made it so he could keep track of the cameras, even when he was far, far, away. The footage was supposed to switch back around midnight, each section going back to normal at a predetermined time. The times when the airport was empty in that section. No one would notice.

As much as he wanted to actually go to sleep, he knew he couldn't. The moment he dropped off for real, the nightmares would be back. The nightmares had been haunting him for the past month... always the same, over and over again. Always _Jack_.

He didn't want to think about it.

* * *

><p>Around midnight in California, the flight attendants started bringing out breakfast. At their destination, it was around nine in the morning. Alex was hungry, from being up all night, as well as not having had any supper... or lunch. He had kept his movement in the New York airport to a minimum, so it would be easier to erase his progress. The meal wasn't exactly gourmet, but it was food, nonetheless.<p>

The plane touched down, and Alex couldn't help but stretch slightly. Aside from walking for a few moments in the midst of the flight, he had stayed in the same position for the last seven hours, and he was definitely stiff. His seatmate, an older woman who had slept most of the time, sent him a knowing smile, before stretching herself.

Even though they had landed, Alex thought it took forever for their plane to pull into the terminal. He pulled out his iPod, erasing any sign of his departure on the flight, and started to hack into the cameras in the airport. No one would know that he had entered the country.

Soon enough, he had the first ten cameras from the gate successfully looping. By that time, the front rows on the plane were starting to disembark. Half the cameras in the airport were looping by the time Alex's turn to get off came. He could get in and out of the airport without anyone ever tracking his presence.

Finally, the line of people moved, and Alex grabbed his backpack before stepping off the plane. He caught sight of the CCTV camera in the corner and smirked. He didn't wave, as tempting as it was. Instead, he stuffed his headphones in, like any teenager, and started walking. He was free for once, and no one would be able to track him.

The air was humid, with the threat of a storm to come later on. If everything went as planned, he'd be well on his way to his next destination by then.

He made his way through customs and immigration, a few nerve wracking moments as he waited for his passport to clear.

The customs official smiled at him, before waving him through. "Bienvenue à Paris, Alex Rider."

* * *

><p>"Excusez-moi? Quand est le prochain train pour Londres?"<p>

"A onze heures."

"Merci." Alex flashed a smile at the woman behind the counter, before turning away. The next train didn't leave for another hour, so he had some time to kill.

As crazy as it sounded, he was heading back to London before heading off into the rest of the world. There was a contact—one he had accidentally made while working for MI6—in London. The contact knew him under a different alias, and was rather handy for getting forged paperwork. Alex needed the forged paperwork before he could be truly free from his old life.

Stopping in a street side café, Alex picked up a sandwich to make it through the afternoon. In all honesty, he wasn't extremely hungry, and was more concerned about hoarding the money he had than anything else. For now, he had plenty of money, having slowly siphoned small amounts off Mr. Pleasure's account over the past few weeks. Once he was in London though, the majority of the money would go toward his alias. Paperwork wasn't exactly cheap. From there, he'd have to find a job and save some money before slipping off to another country. It would be suicidal to go to an unknown country with no money to his name.

While it was entirely possible that _someone_ might see him in London, it was unlikely that they'd put two and two together. As long as his disguise worked as well as he planned, no one would be the wiser.

After munching through his sandwich, Alex headed back to the train station. It wasn't extremely busy, and he had no problem purchasing his ticket. The ticket agents friendly questions about what prompted him to come to Paris, since he still had the British passport, were answered by saying he was visiting his grandparents. Now he was going _home_.

Alex boarded the train, found a seat in the middle of a half empty carriage, and settled in. He stuffed the headphones to his iPod in again, before beginning to carefully erase all traces that he had ever been in Paris. Who said doing potentially illegal activity couldn't be done while listening to Chopin?

Thanks to a couple of the handy apps that Smithers had added, it was easier than it sounded. It was especially nice, since Alex knew that the iPod had no tracking device. Smithers had assured him, and even if he didn't really trust anyone at MI6, it was hard not to trust Smithers.

The airport in New York had been the most fun, since it involved a rather complex plan that bordered on stupidity. First, he boarded the plane that was flying to London, the flight that according to the tickets he had purchased on the credit card was the one he was taking. From there, he had switched out footage on the CCTV cameras, from months earlier. He changed planes, to the flight to Paris leaving an hour later. Then, he had placed the triggers that would switch the footage back to the original, hours later.

It was almost _fun_.

There wasn't as much to do in Paris. He had taken care of the cameras before he had even stepped off the flight, but customs and immigration was another thing completely. Carefully and systematically, he traced down where each and every bit of his information had gone. Thankfully, it hadn't left the country. He erased his name from the logbooks, and passenger lists. He also took care of the information he had given out at the train station. An invisible person.

By the time his train crossed into England, any trace that he had _ever_ been in Paris in the past twelve hours was gone. Erased. The only thing linking him to the train was his current ticket, and the moment he stepped off, even that small bit of information would disappear.

He allowed himself a small smile, knowing that the worst was over. In a matter of days, no one would recognize him for who he was.

He couldn't hold back a yawn though. It was five in the morning in California, and he had been up all night. Sleep was still a long ways off. He still had to get through London and to his hotel.

Oddly, the train stopped at one of the stations longer than it was supposed to. Alex didn't think anything about it, until the armed soldier came into the carriage and started checking identities and passports. The soldier brushed aside the questions from the other passengers, and kept going methodically. He stopped next to Alex, once more asking for the ticket and passport. Alex handed it over, hoping that this random check wouldn't accidentally unearth his plans.

"What was your business in France?" The soldier asked.

Alex immediately relaxed. The soldier had asked the other passengers the same question. "Visiting my grandparents." He used the same lie he had been using all day. Consistency made it harder for someone to pick up the lie.

"Where are you headed? Is London your final destination?"

"Er... yeah." He wasn't really sure how to answer that.

"Not west side, I hope."

"Nah, east."

The soldier grunted, and handed the passport and ticket back. "Good. Keep your eyes open, kid."

Alex bit back a retort about not being a kid anymore, but caught himself just in time. He stuffed the passport and ticket back into his bag. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to use it again before he got his new identity.

The soldier kept moving through the carriage, but no matter how hard Alex listened, the soldier didn't give out any more hints as to _why_ he was checking the train. Were they looking for someone specific? Or did something else happen?

The train eventually reached London, but it had stopped multiple times. Occasionally a soldier would just walk through the compartment, but after the one identity check, there weren't any more. When Alex got off at the station in London, he wasn't too surprised to see the military out in full force. Obviously, something had happened. What though...

Signs were posted that the part of the city around the airport was closed until further notice. No car or pedestrian traffic allowed, aside from military. Suspicious.

Stepping out of the station, Alex was shocked by the stillness. There hadn't been very many people in the station, but outside was completely deserted. He popped back inside to call a cab, not wanting to attract unwanted attention by walking through the deserted city. It would be that much easier for someone to spot him on a security camera.

Something told him though, that MI6 had more than enough on their plate. They wouldn't be worrying about a fifteen year old ex-spy on the loose. Something major had happened, and he was behind on the times.

The cabbie asked him where he was going, and Alex rattled off the address to a hotel. 100 Shoreditch High Street. It felt strange to Alex, to be slipping into a different alias while in his own home country, but he knew that if he wished to get a room for the night, he had to get used to it. Levi Jacobs, age twenty-one, from Manchester, unemployed. One of the few false identities Alex had, and it only went as deep as the government ID. There was nothing else to the name. No banking, no school history, no medical history, and most importantly, no criminal activity.

The cab pulled up in front of the nondescript hotel, and Alex stepped out, already acting differently from himself. _Levi_, the easygoing _adult_, cast his bag over his shoulder and walked up the front steps. The chime on the front door rang, and the woman at the reception desk glanced up. He flirted with her, while checking in, from some already made and paid for, hotel reservations.

It was almost easier than he expected. In almost no time, he was heading up the stairs to his room for the night. He was only staying one night, because he knew better than to stay somewhere longer before he changed his appearance. He needed the new ID, the new appearance, so he could start a new life.

Once Alex was in his room, he only stayed up long enough to erase the short glimpses the CCTV cameras at the train station had caught of him. Only seconds long blips were erased and rerecorded. More difficult since the train station was nowhere near as busy as it usually was, but not impossible.

Then, finally, after being awake for more than forty-eight hours, Alex fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well... there it is. I think I know where I'm going with this. Hopefully...  
><strong>

**If any of the information is wrong about the cities he's been to and the airports, I have no experience with any of those places. *sigh* Any factual inconsistencies are due to my inexperience.**

***_Eight Hours_, is a type of prologue to this fic, though you don't have to read to understand. It does have a spoiler for chapter two of _Starting Anew_, though, so be warned. **

**—S.B.L.**


	2. Being Dead

**Disclaimer: **_Still don't own Alex Rider... Does anyone actually read these? I'M NOT ANTHONY HOROWITZ, so get over it! Yeash... _

**CHAPTER 2: Being Dead**

Thirteen hours later, Alex awoke feeling slightly more rested. He would have still been sleeping, if it weren't for the nightmare that woke him up. He took a shower, trying to erase the memories that had sprung up, before repacking his measly belongings into his backpack. By then, it was nearly eight in the morning, and he knew he needed to get going with his day.

There were a few snacks downstairs, tea and sweet breads, so he grabbed some on his way, before checking out, and disappeared into the city. Or at least, trying to disappear into the city. It was hard when there were so few people out and about. The atmosphere was all wrong. Only those that absolutely needed to be out, were there. Businessmen and women heading to work, a few taxicab drivers waiting for their latest prey, and a few fidgety teenagers that spent more time texting than watching where they were going. More people were out than the day before, but still a lot fewer than there should have been. Everyone skirted around each other, as if the other person had the plague, avoiding any sort of eye contact.

What should have been the midst of an extremely busy city was downgraded to an eerily quiet and fearful one.

Alex didn't like it, but he understood. To an extent. The people were spooked, and he probably would have too if he had had any sense. Then again, he had faced down enough dangers that he was too tired for it to affect him. A glance at a newspaper had told him he was _really lucky_ not to have flown into London the day before.

One of the flights had come in, and a bomb had exploded, destroying the plane and more than half the terminal it had been sitting at. The death count had been in the hundreds, and according to the newspaper, was rising by the hour. Something like that would definitely make the city skittish. The city wasn't prepared to handle the disaster.

After walking for more than an hour, heading south instead of west, he stepped into a small store. He grabbed a water bottle, hair dye, and a pair of scissors, and paid for them. It would make a small but significant change to his appearance. The real change would be the glasses, but he had to pick them up from another place.

A few hours later, he stopped in another store, closer to his destination, and picked up a few groceries. From there, he made his way through the city to one of the parks. While rarely crowded during the best of times, it was all but deserted now.

He had to keep himself from physically flinching away from any of the seemingly ever-present soldiers patrolling the city, afraid that any one of them might know just a little _too much_. That one of them might have just a little too much contact with MI6. The police were also out in full force, but he didn't really have to worry about them. He just had to keep up the façade of a teenager—or rather, of a young adult on break from university. Levi Jacobs, as far as anyone else was concerned.

He ate his makeshift lunch in the park, surreptitiously watching the few soldiers that made their rounds through the small park. They glanced in his direction more than once, but no one approached him. He was watched closely though.

Alex spent another few stress-filled hours out in the public, before making his way through the streets to a hotel he was somewhat familiar with. He was in the Nine Elms district, not too far away from his childhood home. Not that he was going there. There was nothing left there for him. He had no wish to go back.

Using the Levi Jacobs alias again, he checked into the hotel, using some of his rapidly dwindling cash. He had to save out enough to buy the forged paperwork, or it would be all for naught. Taking the room key off the counter, he headed up to his room. Being that much closer to his target destination—his contact—he relaxed some. Still struggling with the time change, he fell asleep almost as soon as he put his bag down and collapsed on the bed.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, refreshed from his short sleep, Alex grudgingly pulled himself together. Step one had been to escape California, step two, was to significantly change his appearance. Time to start step two...<p>

Pulling the hair dye and scissors out of his bag, he went into the bathroom and started the process. At first, he wasn't even sure what he was doing. The hair dye was so dark and thick that he wasn't quite sure how well it was actually going to turn out. Or if it would just turn his hair an odd color...

He managed to get it all onto his hair, but had to resist the urge to immediately wash it all out. It needed time if it was going to work right, according to the box. He ended up pacing in the bathroom, counting down the minutes in his head. Finally, after what he hoped was long enough, he washed it all out. The shower felt good, washing off everything he had picked up over the course of the day. Washing off the person he had once been. Alex Rider wasn't going to appear again. Not for a long time, if ever.

Stepping out of the shower, he glanced at the mirror, and almost swore there was a different person looking back at him. Cold brown eyes, too many scars on his chest—including the rather blaring scar above his heart—crisscrossing every which way, a closed off indifferent face, and to top it all off, chin length jet black hair. He had to run a hand through his hair to confirm that he wasn't looking at some strange picture. Someone that looked _somewhat_ like him, but wasn't.

Trying to shake off the oddness of it all, he took the scissors and started to trim his hair. It had grown out over the past few weeks, and he was glad to get rid of some of the shagginess. The trim added to his age, making him seemed just a little bit older than his fifteen years. The eyes did the rest. Satisfied with his work, Alex headed back out to the main room, still marveling over the change.

Tired of the quietness of the room, Alex grabbed the remote for the TV off the bedside stand and turned it on. He hadn't actually watched anything in months. Even when the Pleasures had watched something, or Sabina went to see a movie with her friends, Alex had somehow always found something else to be doing. It hadn't interested him then, and had just meant one more time when he had to be social. Now though... well... maybe there was news on there somewhere.

He flicked through a few channels, before stopping on the one that had a news announcer taking up the majority of the screen.

_"—and Kaitlyn is live just outside of Heathrow Airport. Kaitlyn?"_

The screen changed, to a full on shot of a woman standing in front of a very familiar building. Police tape marked the boundaries, and Alex could see soldiers, police, and firefighters in the background. He had only flown out of there a month earlier...

_"Police are calling this one of the biggest catastrophes in the past decade. More than four hundred are confirmed dead, and over two hundred are still missing. Emergency crews from all over the Greater London area have responded, and are working to retrieve as many people as possible._

_"With more than half of Terminal 3 destroyed by the bomb on _Flight 284_, crews are still pulling bodies from the wreckage. A total of thirty-seven have been found alive, though with serious wounds. Fewer and fewer are being pulled out alive each hour._

_"Lucas Francois, from the Office of the Prime Minister, issued a statement this afternoon, stating that the attack was made by an international terrorist association that has been hounding the government in the background for the better part of ten years. Francois and the Prime Minister did not take questions after the press conference. Aside from reassuring the populace that the government is doing all in its power to find the group of people responsible, the Prime Minister has been unreachable for comment._

_"It's a dire situation down here, and emergency crews are working around the clock, trying to rescue as many as possible, but as time increases, it's getting more dangerous for the crews. Back to you Jacob."_

They had shown aerial shots of the wreckage, the destroyed planes and terminal that was no more than a pile of rubble. The fact that people were still being pulled out alive was a miracle in and of itself. Alex stared at the terminal, wondering if it was his luck of the devil coming though that he hadn't been one of the people killed.

_"—list of passengers on _Flight 284_ was released earlier this afternoon, as well as the __already confirmed deaths." _The list of people that had been killed scrolled slowly across the screen, and Alex watched the names with a detached interest. All those people, killed because _someone_ had wanted to make a point.

With shock, he recognized one of the names. _'John Crawley.'_ An agent from MI6... granted, not one that he had particularly liked, but that didn't mean he wished him dead. With renewed interest though, Alex watched the names.

Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the remote. It only took one name for him to be shocked to the core though. _'Alex Rider.'_ They thought he was _dead_. It had occurred to him that if he had been in the airport he would have died, but it hadn't registered that _Flight 284_ was the flight coming from New York. The flight he was _supposed_ to be on.

The Pleasures had to be devastated...

At the same time though, a giddy feeling of relief sprung up in him. No one would be looking for him anymore. MI6, SCORPIA, and every other evil organization that he had somehow managed to annoy, wouldn't bother looking for him anymore, because they all thought he was _dead_.

Who knew being dead could be so convenient?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There. It is finished. Well... at least chapter two is! It's shorter than what I like, but... I couldn't really drag it out any longer. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer. Dunno, but we'll see. I'll try to get this out at least once a week (probably Sundays or Saturdays), but if inspiration strikes, I'll update sooner!  
><strong>

**I'm amazed by the response! So many people put this on alert, faved, or reviewed! Thank you so much to everyone. *hint**hint* Reviews are very much appreciated.  
><strong>


	3. Frustration

**Disclaimer:** _Alex Rider is not mine. Last I checked, Horowitz is not my last name. Drat._

**_Previously..._  
><strong>

_No one would be looking for him anymore. MI6, SCORPIA, and every other evil organization that he had somehow managed to annoy, wouldn't bother looking for him anymore, because they all thought he was _dead.

_Who knew being dead could be so convenient?_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 3: Frustration<strong>

He was satisfied with the job he had done on his hair, but changing it from blonde to black didn't make as much difference as he needed. Alex knew he still needed something more. There was always the small possibility that someone, _somewhere_, would recognize him. While the chance was small, he was not going to leave anything up to chance. Any change he could make, he would. Within reason, of course.

He checked out his hotel, asking for directions to the nearest store. The helpful receptionist named off a number of places, and he set off into the city once more. He grabbed some breakfast at the first store he came across, before starting to make his way toward his contact. He had two more stops to make before he could go to the contact though.

Slipping through the back entrance of an eyeglass store, he skillfully disarmed the alarm system. It had yet to open for the day, as it was still rather early in the morning. The acquisition of the glasses he needed involved a tiny bit of theft, but he did leave behind the money to pay for the glasses. If he had to resort to thievery, he would at least be a _polite_ thief.

If anyone looked up the particular order that had gone missing though, they wouldn't find very much of anything. It had been a special order placed for a _Mr. Neil Hawthorn_, one that had come in a week earlier. No one in the small store had thought to check what the prescription was, or _if_ Mr. Hawthorn truly lived at his Chelsea address. If any attempt to contact Mr. Hawthorn were made, they would quickly find that his phone number had been disconnected for the past two months.

Alex smiled to himself, as he carefully put the money on top of the box the glasses had come in, making sure that there was no evidence left behind that might somehow connect him to the _crime_. He slipped back out of the store, reactivated the alarms, and calmly walked down the street.

It would take the store a number of days to even notice that the glasses were missing.

When he was three blocks away, he put the glasses on, noting that they didn't distort his vision in the slightest. It was _almost_ as good as not wearing any at all. At last, he started to feel comfortable in the city he used to call home.

The last stop he made was at a clothing store. Or rather, a second hand store. He was supposed to be a somewhat poor student, after all. He couldn't dress like a teenager though. He needed to find the right combination. Right... this was more Sabina's specialty. Or _Jack's_...

Not for the first time in the past few days, he forcefully pushed his thoughts away from _her_. Being back in London definitely wasn't helping any, but it was the only way to make things work. Not that the nightmares hadn't been worse since entering the country.

In a slightly depressed mood, by the way his thoughts were turning, he went to the last known location of his contact. It only took a couple hours, and the release of his anger at his thoughts on a few unsuspecting thugs, to find the contact and get the paperwork moving. The contact knew better than to ask just _why_ a teen needed the papers. As far as they were concerned, as long as they received the money, they wouldn't ask any questions.

The expedited turnaround time was two days, to create the back-story, ID card, and passport. Well... it was with a little encouragement from Alex. He was tired of people screwing him over, and made sure that the contact understood just that. He wasn't going to be messed with just because they thought he was young and naïve.

After paying half the money—knowing better than to give it all at first—Alex left his contact to his work. There was no need to be breathing down the man's neck.

He knew he needed to find another hotel, but his money was rapidly dwindling, especially now that a good portion of it had gone to pay for his new identity. There was no way he could get a job, not before he had his identity, but he'd have that soon enough. Unfortunately, with the upheaval from the bombing, fewer people were advertising their need for a new employee.

After wandering around the city for a while longer, making sure that the tails his contact had set on him were effectively lost, he found a hotel. It wasn't as well kept as the last few ones, but was significantly cheaper. Price took precedence over comfort. The room was small, but really, it was all he needed for now. He even decided to stay in the same place for more than one night.

He settled down on the slightly lumpy mattress and started surfing the internet on his iPod.

In the span of two days, he needed to accomplish two things. One, he needed to find a permanent flat, somewhere where he could safely hide away from the rest of the world, if needed. He doubted that it would be too hard to accomplish, as there were plenty of flats in the city. Two, he needed to find a job. That would be harder, since the majority of the jobs available, he would be under qualified for. No matter how he looked at it, he was still a fifteen year old that didn't even have a complete education under his belt. As of now, it looked like he wouldn't get a chance to finish that education either.

After a few hours of fruitless searching, aside from finding a few possible flats, Alex got up and started pacing around the room. His thoughts had inadvertently shifted back to _her_. The frustration he'd felt. Perhaps it was because the nightmare had been particularly violent the night before, but the images were as fresh as when it had happened. _The car bomb. The explosion. Hitting the button._

Alex very nearly threw the iPod at the wall in frustration. Who was he kidding? The only person that had ever cared about him was dead. _His fault_. He had left California, because he couldn't stand the Pleasures pity. He had also left, because he knew he was a constant danger to them. They were safe, now that he was dead and gone.

He paced to the small bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, glaring at his mocking reflection. Alex Rider was gone. In his place stood some unknown stranger that was dangerous to everybody he met.

He needed a distraction...

There were two days until he could put all of his past behind him, and pick up the alias of a native Frenchman, right off the streets of Paris. With nothing better to do, he set about trying to find the right way to speak. The words needed to slip off his tongue in just the right manner, with just the right accent.

It was a good distraction.

* * *

><p>Two days later, Alec Pierre stepped out of a rickety looking building, and started to make his way toward his new flat in Brockley. Alex was pleased with the quality of work. The identity was complete with fake references, confirming that the <em>eighteen year old<em> wouldn't fall behind on his rent.

The first payment had caused a few problems though. Alex was running low on money, and the deposit on the flat was higher than he had imagined. There was no way that he could spend another few nights in a hotel though.

In the end, he had used a combination of Smithers apps on the iPod to block out the security cameras and get into the ATMs system. It hadn't linked to any one account, just gave out the majority of the money in the ATM. Or, in Alex's case, as much money as he suspected he'd need for the next few days. No one knew or suspected when he got the money from the machine, and he knew that when the theft was discovered hours later, it would be a dead end. He had cut the footage in just the right spot, making it impossible for the police to discover the thief.

With the rental contract, the deposit and first month's rent paid, and the bare essentials of furniture on the inside, Alex moved into his flat. It was small, but had a full kitchen, a fact he was planning to make good use of. He was looking forward to having a real meal again, not just whatever he could grab from a store. There were two windows in the flat. Almost subconsciously, he checked the views from the windows, looking for the most likely spots for a sniper. There weren't many options. The windows were just big enough that Alex knew he'd be able to escape out them, if needed.

Content that his flat was secure and had more than enough escapes, he settled in. He knew better than to expect to find a job within a few days, but he hoped to find something soon. While he knew he didn't really need to worry about coming up with money—there were more than enough ATMs in the city, after all—he wanted to be self-sufficient. He didn't like the thought of stealing from the ATMs, even if it wasn't from one particular person. Stealing was a crime, no matter the reasons.

Of course, with only a few skills to his name, it was going to be hard to find a job. This was going to take a while...

* * *

><p>Two weeks.<p>

Two weeks of taking money from ATMs around the city, so he wouldn't starve.

Two weeks of fruitless applications to different places.

Two weeks of refusal after refusal.

Alex quickly found that recently places weren't hiring eighteen year old French students that had almost no work experience. He was starting to wonder if he had been too optimistic about finding a job. Then again, he hadn't exactly _counted_ on the bombing to take place.

Every place he had checked, every single job posting he had found, had been wary of hiring him. Especially since he was supposedly a _foreigner_. While they weren't discriminating, per say, each place had rejected his application on a myriad of accounts. _'Needs more experience.' 'Too young for such a high responsibility position.' 'Not suitable for customer relations.'_ The list went on and on.

After a week of playing the runaround game, and being rejected on all accounts, he started looking into the less normal routes of finding work. He started digging into the background of places that any _sane_ person would avoid, especially if they were already living on a forged life. Something told him though, that he wouldn't stand out quite so much in places like that. People would be used to hiding secrets.

It took a week of digging for him to settle down onto a few targets. He had backup plans, just in case the first place didn't work out. _'The Emerald Badger,'_ was the first target. It was a normal, everyday pub on the outside, but had some shady business in the background. Alex was sure that the majority of regulars at the place had no idea what happened in the background. The perfect front. They also just so happened to be running short on workers.

The pub had a perfect set up for their shady dealings, with the street cameras set up in just the right way, so that there was a space of about three meters between the street and door that was invisible from the street cameras. Alex had even tried turning the camera, but he never got a glimpse of the front door. If an individual parked just right, the camera wouldn't catch the license plate either.

Having studied the cameras for hours over the past few days, Alex boldly walked down the street. He started dodging the cameras once he got within a block of the pub, and was confident that he hadn't shown up on the cameras. Even if he had though, he was unremarkable in his jeans and sweatshirt. No one he passed even gave him a second glance.

Since it was the middle of the day, a sign on the door to the pub proclaimed that the pub was _'Closed.'_ Alex smirked and ignored it. He knew that the person he was looking for was here, and as far as he was concerned, a _closed_ sign wasn't going to stop him.

The bell over the door rang, immediately alerting anyone present in the building that they had a visitor. Alex tried not to scowl at it, but it certainly did make his plan that much easier.

"We're closed!" A voice called from the back. "Can't you _read_?" A tall, gruff, and heavily muscled man stepped out from behind a door, and glared at Alex. "Get lost kid."

Alex had to stamp down on his sudden urge to laugh at how cliché the man was. Obviously, he was the _bouncer_ for the pub. He wasn't able to keep the smirk away though. "No."

The man scowled at Alex. "We're closed, and I doubt you have any real business here, _kid._" He marched menacingly toward Alex when he didn't move; pulling his height up until it was clear that Alex was the much shorter of the two. Alex didn't even flinch. He had stared down worse.

"Do you mind?" Alex asked, slipping right into his French accent. It had become almost second nature over the past two weeks. "Personal space issues." He gestured to the space around himself. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You?" The scowl deepened, and the man took a step closer, until they were nearly nose to nose—or rather, chest to nose. "I don't think a small little _French fleabag_ like you could do any damage to me. Get out, or I'll throw you out."

Alex ignored the threat, and slowly walked around the man, glancing around at the pristine bar. It was remarkably clean. Not that he had anything to compare it to... "You wouldn't do that." He said, surveying the man. "Your boss wouldn't be very happy. He wouldn't like it if I walked out of here with the keys to your register and safe. He'd probably also like to know why they're currently in my hand." He lifted the keys on his finger and jangled them in the air. The man scowled at him, automatically patting the pocket where the keys _had_ been.

It hadn't been too hard to find the keys; the pocket had been misshapen from being used to hold the keys so many times. With the man distracted by Alex's little spiel on personal space issues, he hadn't even noticed when Alex slipped his hand into the pocket. It was like stealing candy from a baby. Easier, actually, since a baby would have fussed. "He might like to know why a little _French fleabag_ like me could pick your pocket so easily, and you didn't notice a thing."

Alex waited for the response.

_Three..._

_Two..._

_One..._

The man lunged at Alex, nearly incomprehensible obscenities coming from his mouth. If it hadn't been for the fact that Alex was slightly nervous about fighting the much larger man, he might have grinned. As it was, he hastily danced back from the grip, and focused on the enraged man in front of him. Though it had been months since he had dealt with any crazy criminals—or _any_ criminals for that matter—the routine came back easily.

He dodged the fist that was swinging toward his head, blocked a few other punches, and waited for the mistake to come. Thugs often messed up when they were extremely annoyed, and this man was no different. Alex _had_ been expecting a little more fight though, before the mistake came. He had _thought_ the man was a professional, but apparently not... With a slight frown, he tripped the man and casually twisted and pinned the man's hands behind his back, keeping him in place.

"You know, as well as I do, that I can easily hurt you from here." Alex said, letting a threatening note slip into his voice. If the man tried anything, one of them was going to end up injured. Alex had no wish for that to happen. "I won't hurt you, because that's not what I want. This little French fleabag only wants one thing."

"And what might that be?" Another voice, cool and collected, came from behind the bar. Alex scampered away from the downed man, putting a table safely between them. The man got up, prepared to charge, but the voice spoke again. "Leave him be, Rosen. We'll hear him out, first." The man stepped into the light, and Alex saw the man in charge of the bar. _Jacob Kleczka_. "What _do_ you want?"

Alex stared at the man, resisting the urge to smile. _Perfect_. He took a deep breath. It was now, or never. "Not much." He said, casually. "All I want is a job."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: As promised, it's up on Sunday. What'd you think? Good? Bad? I'm not very good at writing fighting, since my experience with it only comes from reading fanfiction... does it seem vague enough to be real? Heh, did that sentence even make sense? At least the chapter is longer this time!  
><strong>

** Review, por favor. S'il vous plaît. Err... *insert native language here* Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!**

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	4. Interrogation

**Disclaimer: **_Yes! Alex Rider is all mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Muwhahaha..._

_Wait... scratch that. That was just a dream. *sighs***  
><strong>_

_**Previously...**_

_Alex stared at the man, resisting the urge to smile._ Perfect._ He took a deep breath. It was now, or never. "Not much." He said, casually. "All I want is a job."_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 4: Interrogation<strong>

Kleczka walked over to him, surveying him. He wasn't glaring. Instead, he seemed merely curious as to why a teenager had barged into his pub and asked for a job. "And you chose this place?" He asked. "After picking a fight with my bouncer? That's not generally considered a wise career move."

Alex shrugged, brushing off the accusation. "He started it."

There was a slight twitch to Kleczka's lips, and Alex was sure that he had almost smiled. He amused him. "And why would I give you a job? It's not like I've put out _'Help Wanted'_ signs. I have enough help already."

Alex knew Kleczka was lying through his teeth, and smirked. He walked around the room, as if Kleczka and Rosen weren't two potentially dangerous people to turn his back on. "No... you don't have enough help." He ran his hand across one of the tables. "Zeeger is missing, has been for the past two months, and you suspect he's dead. Felix hasn't shown up for the past two weeks, and you suspect that his family fled after the bombing."

He wandered around a few more minutes, letting his words sink in, before continuing. "Soo Jin, that little Korean you've been employing since Zeeger went missing, was found dead in an alley three days ago." He spun around, pinning Kleczka and Rosen with the intensity of his stare. "You're down to three to work the bar. You, Rosen, and your cook. You've even had to cut back on the hours this place is open, because you have so few workers. _Now_ tell me that you don't need more help around here."

Rosen quickly forgot that his employer had told him to leave Alex alone. Alex barely had time to react, as the man rushed him and slammed him against the wall. He was fast, faster than Alex had been led to believe through their short fight. "What the hell makes you so sure about that?"

Alex gritted his teeth, turning his smirk into a slight grimace. He couldn't deny that that hadn't hurt, and to completely brush it off might raise some kind of warning signals. He wasn't worried, really, just taken slightly off guard. He'd worry about the bruising later... for now, he needed to make sure that Kleczka and Rosen believed him. "Research. And this nifty little thing called _surveillance_."

The two others shared a glance, so short that Alex wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't imagined it. Kleczka approached, flicking a knife from his sleeve into his hand. He prevented Rosen from slamming Alex into the wall again, but there was a glint in his eyes that said he expected answers. "So tell me. What makes you think that just because I've lost a few employees over the last few weeks, I'll hire a little brat like you?"

Alex held himself, so he wouldn't flinch away from the knife, so the slight bubble of fear in the pit of his stomach wouldn't show through in his eyes. Kleczka was using the knife purely as an intimidation tactic. If it had been a gun... that would have been a different story. The knife meant that Kleczka wasn't going to kill him, _yet_. Alex still had a little more time to keep talking, before he had to take action.

He licked his lips, trying to figure the best way to answer. "You're losing valuable time and money by keeping the bar closed in the mornings. Less and less people are out in the streets at night since the bombing, so your usual customer base has decreased. And it usually takes you months to fill a vacancy here. I'm offering to work."

Kleczka studied him, and Alex returned the gaze, refusing to back down. As long as he seemed confident—but not _too_ confident—Kleczka _should_ at least give him a chance. If it didn't work, Alex knew he'd be right back at square one, only this time, with some possible enraged criminal contact after him.

This had to work.

Rosen moved to the side, responding to some silent signal from Kleczka, and let go of Alex. Alex stayed where he was, stock-still. _Something_ was going to happen. Either, something good, or something very, very, bad. Kleczka moved so he was standing directly in front of Alex, and placed the tip of his knife up against Alex's chest.

He had been effectively boxed in, and Alex saw no way to get out without the knife hitting _something_ vital. To say that the gesture didn't scare him half to death, would be lying. His heart fluttered traitorously, seeming to want to escape its prison. He refused to let any emotion show on his face. _Confidence_.

"So you thought you could waltz in here, fight my bouncer, sprout a bunch of information that _no one_ should know, and then expect me to give you a job?" A grin crossed his face, and the knife seemed to disappear instantly, only to hit the wall beside Alex. "You're probably more trouble than what you're worth, but I think a job would be sufficient to make you keep quiet about what you saw."

Alex only _just_ managed not to flinch when the knife hit the wall beside him, and he concentrated on calming his heartbeat. The moment the knife had disappeared, his heart seemed to have skipped a few beats.

"I like you kid. I think you'll fit in here." The hint of a smile was back, and Alex wondered briefly if that really was a good thing. Rosen was still glaring at him, so maybe it wasn't anything at all. "What's your name?"

"Alec Pierre."

"Where're you from?"

Alex shrugged. They _knew_ he was French. That much was obvious from his accent. "Here and there."

"Why did you choose _my_ pub?" Kleczka asked, the ice seeming to come back into his voice again. "Just where did you find that information?"

"Here and there." He answered evasively, smirking when Rosen snarled at his incomplete answer. "I didn't just watch _your_ pub. There are plenty of pubs in town, and they've all had their share of bad luck since the bombing. Employees going missing, whatnot. Yours just happened to be the first of many I tried."

Kleczka raised an eyebrow. "And you have _background_ info on _all_ these pubs?"

Alex smirked. "I might. That doesn't mean I'm going to tell you though. I'm not a snitch."

"Are you here legally?"

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Whether or not he was in the country legally wouldn't matter. "Of course." _Not really. I'm dead, don't you know?_ "I even have my documents with me." He pulled his wallet out and showed his new ID card, just long enough for Kleczka to get a glimpse of the name and black hair. "Now, are you going to give me a job, or do I have to go peddle my wares at another pub?"

Kleczka put a hand on his shoulder, in an almost fatherly gesture, before roughly spinning him around and pushing him up against the wall. It happened so fast. Alex had thought Rosen was fast, but Kleczka was faster. He wrenched Alex's arms behind him. "First, I think you need to answer some questions for me."

Alex could taste blood in his mouth, from inadvertently biting his tongue. He couldn't say he hadn't been expecting something like this, but he had definitely hoped to avoid it. It did confirm his thoughts on the shady business dealings though. They were operating in standard criminal fashion. Lull into a fake sense of security, before roughing them up and demanding answers. The only thing was, Alex was only going to give them the information he wanted them to know. "Could have asked nicely, though." He muttered to himself.

Rosen pulled his wrists together, and tied them. _So predictable_. Rosen pushed him down into a chair and stood menacingly in front of him. Or, at least, _tried_. Alex had stared down much scarier men before, Rosen was nothing. Kleczka on the other hand... he seemed to have taken blank face lessons from a master.

"Who gave you the information? Who did you talk to?" Kleczka demanded, pure ice coloring his tone. "Don't bother lying. It'll just get you on Rosen's bad side."

Alex glared up at him with all the teenage defiance he could muster. Mentally, he was already starting to figure out a way to get out of the situation. And here he had thought working _with_ criminals would help him keep his cover. _Only temporary,_ he told himself, _only temporary_.

"Who. Did. You. Talk. To?"

"No one." The punch caught Alex in the middle of his jaw, and his head snapped back from the impact. Gingerly, he ran his tongue along his teeth, assuring that nothing was loose or broken, before spitting out the blood from biting his tongue _again_, and glared at Kleczka. If Rosen managed to break his glasses, he was going to be very unhappy. "If you let me explain, beating me up won't be necessary."

Kleczka put a restraining hand on Rosen, purely for show, and gestured for Alex to explain.

Alex shook his head once, marveling at the havoc the one punch had wracked. He was going to have one hell of a headache soon. "I told you already, I've been watching pubs all over the city. I tried other lines of work, but the majority of the places around town aren't hiring internationals after the bombing. The pubs were a last resort... and well, I needed a somewhere that wouldn't ask too many questions. This was one of the few pubs that hire international workers fairly regularly, or so I've gathered from my searching."

"Who did you talk to? Obviously you talked to someone during your _searches_."

Alex shrugged. "I didn't talk to anyone." The shrug was enough to loosen the ropes just slightly, and he started to untie them. "I'm rather skilled with a computer, and I have far too much time on my hands since no one will hire an international. The background information wasn't too hard to dig up. I have to admit though, your front door is _very_ interesting. Rather skillfully placed, if I do say so myself. I'd rather not think of the reasons why Miss Soo Jin showed up dead on my radar, but I'm sure you know why. So I'd like to clarify. I'm only here for the work." He met Kleczka's eyes. "The work in the pub. I can't live on nothing."

Alex kept his hands behind his back, as he untied the last of the rope. If Kleczka wasn't satisfied with the answers he had give, or decided that keeping Alex around wasn't a good idea... he needed a few surprises up his sleeve. Hinting that he knew about Kleczka's _other_ side to the business... well, he wasn't sure if that had been a good move or not. He was following his instincts though, and it just seemed right.

Kleczka started laughing, and Alex wasn't sure how to interpret that. Rosen's face relaxed from the glare though, so Alex took it to mean a good thing. "Very well, Alec. You're a smart kid—I'll give you that. Be back in five hours, and I'll see what I can do about giving you a job. Does eight an hour sound about right?"

Alex swallowed and nodded. It had been a gamble, and he had really been sticking his neck on the line, but it seemed to have worked.

"Good. Go back on your word though, and I can promise that you'll wish you were never born." The threat was clear, but Alex almost immediately shrugged it off. He had escaped MI6 and SCORPIA; it wouldn't be too hard to lose these two. Except he'd have to get _another_ identity. That wouldn't be fun. Besides, he had no intention of selling them out.

Kleczka gestured toward Alex, and Rosen stepped forward to untie Alex. Alex didn't wait, and instead picked the rope up and stood. He glanced between the rope and Rosen. "The knot was too loose. I was able to slip right out." He sent a cheeky grin at Kleczka before tossing the rope toward a stunned Rosen. "I'll be back in five hours."

He didn't run out of the building, but still got out as quickly as possible, while Rosen and Kleczka were still stunned by his escape. The last thing he wanted was for Kleczka or Rosen to decide that they weren't so comfortable with him roaming the streets freely, with their secrets in his mind. They would grow used to him eventually, but he knew the first few days would be tense. They'd be watching him closely.

Being extra cautious, he took a roundabout way back to his flat, going through as many crowds, streets, and shops, as possible, to keep anyone from following him. Not once did he get the feeling of being followed, but that didn't mean he wasn't being careful.

He relaxed the moment he entered his flat, and grinned to himself. Mission Emerald Badger was a success. Sure, he'd have to watch himself, what with the shady aspects, but it meant money. It meant no more ATM thievery.

As soon as he had enough saved up, he'd be able to move up in the world. Maybe buy a better alias so he could get a decent job, or go to some foreign school and get an education. Leave the country and forget the criminal aspect to everything, once and for all.

The only reason he hadn't left the country already, was because his contact was in London. That alone made sticking around worth it. He also didn't feel ready to test out his new ID at a border crossing. Security was still up tight, making it that much more likely that someone would recognize a forger. The idea of floundering for a job in a country where the language wasn't his first was unnerving as well. Even though he could speak French like a native—or German, or Spanish, or... well the list went on—he liked hearing his native language on a daily basis.

With the hardest part done though, he just needed to save his money. That was all. Saving, and waiting...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Chapter four is out. I'm sick, and school was out for the last two days (_hallelujah!_), so I had a little extra time on my hands. Please tell me if something is wrong, since as I edited I found some tense skipping and incomplete thoughts. I think I got all of it out, but if not... let me know.**

**I love reading all your reviews! *hint* *hint* ^_^  
><strong>

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	5. Special Customers

**Disclaimer: **_Who me? Own Alex Rider? Only in my dreams..._

_**Previously...**_

_As soon as he had enough saved up, he'd be able to move up in the world. Maybe buy a better alias so he could get a decent job, or go to some foreign school and get an education. Leave the country and forget the criminal aspect to everything, once and for all._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 5: Special Customers<strong>

_Julius stared at him, a smirk tugging on his lips. "You can't do it." He said, ignoring the gun pointed in his face. "You're not going to shoot me. You don't have it in you. You can't turn yourself into a coldblooded killer."_

"_You are nothing to me." Alex said, his hand never wavering. "__You killed_ her_."_

"_Sure." His voice was mocking. "Whatever you say to make yourself sleep at night. Do you think she died instantly? Or was she alive long enough to curse your name? Alex Rider, the coldblooded killer, who doesn't care about his friends, or _family_. __Trust me, _you_ killed Jack."_

"_No!" Alex shouted at the mockery of himself. "You did. You did it. You pressed the button. You're a sick twisted bastard."_

_Julius started walking closer, until the gun was touching his chest. There was no fear. "You killed us all. All of us. _Now_ you're going to pay." __Julius twisted the gun out of Alex's grip. Before Alex knew it, it was pointed back at him, digging into the point where the bullet had just barely missed his heart. __The faces of those that had died, those he had killed, seemed to join Julius in the madness, screaming and yelling, accusing, Alex._

_The worst was Jack. "You did this to me!" She screeched. Her body seemed to be melting, with charred and blackened parts. "It's your fault! You deserve to die!"_

"_No... no... no... I didn't mean..." He pleaded with her, tried to get her to understand._

"_Die!"_

"_Die!"_

"_Die!"_

_Julius grinned, pressing the gun harder to Alex's chest. "You heard her. __You deserve to die." __The hand pulled back on the trigger, and a shot fired._

* * *

><p>He barely managed to suppress the scream that came as a result of the nightmares. Alex pressed a shaking hand to his chest, feeling the reassuring—but fast—beat of his heart underneath. <em>Safe<em>. It was just a nightmare. Just the most recent of many in the past few months.

He sat up quickly, hitting his head against the table. _Note to self: be more cautious about sleeping in one of the booths,_ he thought to himself. He rubbed his head, trying to stop the pounding that hitting it had caused. The nightmares tended to cause headaches as well, so that didn't help any.

He glanced around the empty pub, before discovering the source of his wake-up call. The alarm on his iPod had gone off, warning him that the others would be coming soon to open up.

Over the past three months, Alex had fallen into his charade of Alec Pierre. Kleczka and Rosen both seemed unaware that their young bartender had any sort of past dealings with the criminal world, or that Alec wasn't his real name. In fact, they had left him alone for the most part, aside from a few benign questions here and there.

Within two weeks of working, he had enough money to pay off the second month's rent for his flat, money for food, and was even able to save a little. He kept the money in his flat, hidden in various hiding places, since he didn't trust a bank. Besides, if he ever needed to get out quickly... he wouldn't have to cross half the city just to get money.

The hours were long, with at least forty, if not more, hours a week, but the pay was good. Most nights, he was at the pub, working late into the night, before making his way back across London to his flat. While he didn't like walking through London in the dead of night, he didn't want to move. His flat was cheap, had what he needed, and he felt safer further away from his work.

Occasionally, he had a doubt shift, from the bar at night, to the early morning crowd a few hours later. On those nights, Alex was lucky to get four hours of sleep, and most often, he didn't even bother to leave the bar, knowing it took too long to get to his flat and back.

While it was obvious that Kleczka and Rosen had some criminal dealings, most of those _customers_ came during the day, when Alex was off work. Every now and then, one of those customers would come in during the evening, and Alex would be forced to serve them. He had no wish to associate with those people, and Kleczka seemed content to keep his youngest worker away from it.

They were arms dealers of sorts. Nothing major, usually just a few guns, or knives, for the local gangs. While Alex didn't exactly approve, he was impressed that Kleczka had managed to stay invisible for so long. Once or twice, someone more important would come in, and the pub would clear out almost immediately. Those nights, Alex got to go home earlier.

Working the bar wasn't too exciting, as far as Alex was concerned, aside from the few times that _important_ people came in. For the most part, the customers were older, more worn people, and he quickly learned the regulars. There were those that were rowdy drunks, as well as those that didn't know how to take no for answer. More than once, a disgruntled customer had tried to follow him home, and more than once, he had had to protect himself. There were some definite downsides to the job.

Rosen usually dealt with the drunks rather well, and kept the usual riffraff out of the bar. While no one actually checked ID, it was a given that anyone who entered the bar that looked younger than thirty probably wasn't meant to be there.

Alex almost smiled to himself, thinking of the poor unsuspecting kid that had tried to come into the bar the night before. Rosen had practically tossed him out the door.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he started to get the room ready for his shift. Kleczka, Rosen, and the cook, Grant, were used to Alex sticking around overnight when he had double shifts. On those days, Kleczka didn't even bother to show up early to open up, since he knew Alex was there.

Alex went through the routines of opening everything up, making sure to let Grant in the back so he could get the food cooking for the early morning crowd. At five in the morning, no one was particularly talkative, and it was up to the two of them to get the pub going for the morning.

Rosen appeared just as Grant was getting the tea and coffee ready, and Alex took the moment to grab a cup of the still black tea. It managed to take the edge off his unrestful night, and wash away the worst of the nightmare. Glad to have managed at least that, he started in on the rest of his duties, so the pub would be ready for opening at six.

Over the next two hours, the customers came in, by ones and twos. Alex knew most of them by name now, and could predict what half of them would order. It was odd to think that in Chelsea, his classmates were just now getting up to go to school, and here he was, serving tea and coffee to almost complete strangers. The complete strangers knew his name by now, Alec, the French boy Kleczka had hired, but nothing more than that.

By eight thirty, the customers started trickling out, and Alex was reaching the end of his endurance. The three cups of tea had helped some, but no matter how much caffeine he got in his system, _nothing_ could make up for lost sleep. At least he had a two-day break to look forward to. It'd start all over again, but he'd have a chance to catch up on some of his sleep.

Having a customer come in at quarter till nine was unexpected. Most regulars had already cleared out, off to their day jobs, and those that hadn't were the ones that Rosen would most likely have to take care of personally. Thus, the stream of five people coming in meant only one thing. Kleczka's _special_ customers.

The leader of the group, a dark skinned man that just seemed to be _rippling_ with muscles, marched up to Alex and glared at him. It didn't take an idiot to see that this was not a person to make mad. "Where's Kleczka?" His rough accent and withering glare unnerved Alex a bit. Kleczka might have had a thing for _hiring_ foreigners, but he _never_ had foreign customers. This person was different.

Alex met eyes with Rosen, hoping to find something out, but the man just shrugged. He was partially busy eyeing up the four goons with the foreigner. Kleczka wasn't around yet. _Of course,_ Alex thought_, the day Kleczka comes in late, he has a customer._ "He's busy."

The foreigner, who Alex dubbed as Muscles, reached out and grabbed Alex's shirt, pulling his closer. "Well, you had better get him for me then."

Rosen had taken a few steps closer the moment Muscles touched Alex, but the goons seemed to dissuade him from getting closer and interfering.

"I-I can't." Alex said, putting just the right amount of fear in his voice. There was no reason to tick off the customer. He noted Rosen's widened eyes, and realized that he hadn't actually shown _fear_ before, not matter how fake it was now. "It's impossible really." He added, slightly hysterically. It wasn't too hard, when Muscles was right up in his face. "You see... Kleczka's not here right now."

Muscles shoved Alex back, letting go of the shirt. "Then we'll wait." He and his four men sat down in a corner booth, not bothering to order anything. Something caught Alex's eye, causing his heart to stutter in his chest. It wasn't the glare Muscles was currently sending him. No... it was the scorpion tattoo on the back of Muscles' neck.

_SCORPIA_.

* * *

><p>Fifteen tense minutes later, Alex heard the slightly muffled thud as Kleczka came into the building through the back entrance. Alex had passed a message back to Grant for Kleczka, warning him of his... <em>guests<em>. None of the men at the table showed any outward signs of hearing the thud, but Alex knew they did. The room had cleared out since they came in, and none of the regulars had needed Rosen's _help_.

Almost out of character, Rosen helped Alex clean the bar. It seemed that he wasn't ready to leave the teen alone in the room with unsavory characters. Alex was grateful for it, because ever since he had spotted the tattoo, he had been shaky, afraid of accidentally doing something to tip them off that their favorite teenage spy wasn't as dead as he was supposed to be. Even though he didn't personally recognize any of the men, he still didn't feel safe. SCORPIA terrified him.

Kleczka came out of the kitchen after a few more tense minutes, and sent a glance toward Alex. His message had been received, and it appeared that Kleczka wasn't going to complain about the warning. These weren't Kleczka's _usual_ customers.

The group disappeared into the back, and Rosen followed, leaving it up to Alex and Grant to clean the place and lock up. With slightly shaky movements, Alex went around finishing his jobs, barely paying attention to what he was doing. _If they recognized him..._

"You know, cleaning that table a fifth time won't make it any cleaner." Grant said, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Alex laughed nervously, and brushed it off as too little sleep. He moved on to the last table, finished, and sunk into a chair. Four hours of sleep, coupled with nightmares and now the stress of SCORPIA showing up, was enough to make him just want to fall asleep.

"You look like hell, kid." Grant said, taking the cleaning cloth away. "I'll finish up. There's only the counter and kegs left, right?"

Alex nodded.

"Good. Get some sleep. You look like you need it. We'll see you in two days."

Alex couldn't cover the yawn that came up, thanked Grant, and made his way out of the pub. He had two days. Two days to catch up on his sleep and do a little shopping. Kleczka had paid him the night before, so he was set for days, weeks, really.

It was raining outside, and it didn't do anything except encourage his downtrodden mood. He steadfastly kept his evasion techniques up, paranoid as always that someone might try to follow him home. With a brush with a SCORPIA agent, he now, more than ever, wanted no one to know where he lived.

If by some chance, it turned out that Kleczka was working with them... Alex wasn't sure what he would do. SCORPIA had a way of destroying his trust in _everyone_.

An hour later, Alex made it back to his flat, soaked and depressed. His senses didn't go off high alert until after he had taken a shower and determined that no one was coming after him that moment. He fell into his bed, determined to finally get some rest.

* * *

><p><em>He was restrained. He couldn't move, couldn't fight against them. They left him no choice but to watch.<em>

"_Alex, look what your actions have resulted in." A leering figure stood over him, showing him what he didn't want to see. "Your precious Jack. She'll wish you're dead after this. Especially since it's your fault she's here in the first place."_

"_No! Don't do this!" He yelled and screamed, pleaded with the man._

_Julius laughed in the background, holding the innocent white box that meant _her_ doom. "She'll curse your name with her last breath."_

"_Don't!"_

_Julius laughed again, and pressed down on the button. For a moment, it was like Alex himself had pressed the button, sealing Jack's death._

"_NO!"_

_The explosion filled his mind, taking in each breathtaking detail. Breathtaking was right... a weight had pressed down on his chest, making it impossible to breathe. Blackness filtered in, with Julius' mocking words in the background._

"_It's your fault Jack's dead. She hates you. Blames you."_

_Alex found himself back in the middle of Cairo, pointing the gun at his mockery of a clone. A spitting image of himself, entirely at the mercy of his gun. He spat words of disgust at Julius, before turning to walk away. The click of a gun caught his attention, and he spun around, shooting before he thought about it._

* * *

><p>Alex woke up retching and shaking. He fought against himself, begging his mind to be playing tricks. That he was really just asleep in his room back in Chelsea, and Jake was downstairs making one of her famous ten-minute meals. That Ian had just gone to work early, to his completely normal job at a <em>bank<em>. That all was right in the world.

But no, Jack's death replayed over and over in his mind. The look of determination she had had, just before the bomb exploded. All his yelling and screaming, doing nothing, except play right into Julius and Razim's hand. Then, killing Julius. It was as good as killing himself, shooting himself in the forehead, over and over again. A parody of living, created just for him.

He stumbled to the bathroom, just barely making it before he threw up. The nonexistent food tried to make its way back up. Dry heaves came, and eventually he curled up in a ball on the cool floor, shaking from exhaustion. Sleep, what he needed so desperately right now, was impossible to attain.

When the shakes decreased some, he pulled himself up again and washed his face in the sink. He stared at his reflection. Alec Pierre stared back. They were two different people, two completely different façades for two completely different situations. Terrified brown eyes stared back at him, the only link between the two façades, full of terror that only the nightmare and SCORPIA could bring.

Once upon a time, Jack comforted him. When he was younger and the nightmares more tame. Even Ian had had a turn comforting him. Now there was no one. On his own at fifteen. _Fifteen_. No one in their right mind would let a fifteen year old run loose in London. No one in their right mind would let one live on their own, so secluded. _So alone_. No one cared anymore though. There was no one to look after him. He was on his own.

Leaving the bathroom, he headed to the kitchen and started to make a cup of tea, hoping it would calm his nerves so he could at least get a few more hours of sleep. He knew better than to try to work himself to exhaustion, he was already there, anyway.

The tea helped, for a while, and he fell asleep again, only to wake up a few hours later shaking and retching all over again. He didn't even attempt to go back to sleep this time. Instead, he took a long shower, and set off to pick up some food, in an attempt to get his mind off the nightmares.

The small corner shop was well into the swing of business by the time Alex got there, and the cashier waved at him. The initial uptightness after the bombing had worn off in the last month, and barely anyone glanced twice at Alex when it was clear that he was a foreigner.

He grabbed the usual things, fresh vegetables to last until he went back to work, frozen meals to get through the rest of the week, and a hearty supply of tea. The cashier attempted to flirt with him, if that's what the batting of the eyelashes and significant glances meant, but it was the usual. She did it every time she saw him; despite the fact that he claimed he was much too poor to support a girlfriend. She just giggled at that, and casually wrote her number on the back of his receipt. It was the same every single week.

He rolled his eyes at her, the stress he had felt at his nightmare dissipating for now. He knew that eventually he'd have to leave the friendly little shop behind, and move onto another place. Another place to establish routines. His paranoid feelings never left, and he doubted that they ever would.

At least, for now, it was keeping him safe...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ooh, SCORPIA's back... at least for a while ^_^ You'll just have to wait and see.**

**So, a questions for you... What kind of job do you see Alex having if he was able to go to university for anything? Could you actually see him settling into a normal job, if he was able to put _everything_ behind him? This probably won't have any bearing on the current story, it's just something I've been thinking about.**

**Your reviews are lovely, so keep them coming! Seriously, every review I get makes me want to update faster.  
><strong>

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	6. Discovered?

**Disclaimer:** _Alex Rider belongs to Anthony Horowitz. My name most certainly isn't Anthony. Thus, I am not him._

_**Previously...**_

_He knew that eventually he'd have to leave the friendly little shop behind, and move onto another place. Another place to establish routines. His paranoid feelings never left, and he doubted that they ever would._

_At least, for now, it was keeping him safe..._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 6: Discovered?<strong>

Twenty kilometers of running, far too many katas practiced, and a few hours of nightmare-interrupted sleep later, Alex headed back to the pub. He hated the vulnerability the nightmares left him with, the complete feeling of helplessness as the people that had died, attacked him. Not to mention that the worst nightmares left him wiped.

Rosen was just coming out of the front door of the pub when Alex showed up. They had a sort of grudging respect for each other, after a rather interesting incident with a few extremely rowdy patrons. Alex had stepped up and helped, and Rosen had succeeded in keeping a few people from outright killing Alex. While they would never be best of friends, Alex was reminded of Wolf whenever he saw Rosen.

Rosen bumped into him as Alex went toward the door. "Kleczka's visitors are still here. Might want to lay low until opening." Alex had to stop himself from retaliating, before the man's words penetrated his thoughts. _Visitors?_ Rosen had never warned before... what was different?

Oh...

One glance around the room inside, and Alex was reminded _why_ the nightmares had been especially violent the last two nights. He first thought was to turn and run, but he caught himself just in time—running would raise _far_ too many questions.

Obviously, the man from SCOPRIA was still in the area, since his guards were still sitting in the booth in the corner. If it weren't for the slight change of clothes, Alex would have said they never left.

Knowing that anything out of the ordinary he did would raise suspicions with the men, he headed in, barely sparing a glance toward the back table. With almost mechanical movements, he wiped down the bar, and started pulling glasses out for easy access. He double-checked everything, almost smirking when he heard Grant thumping around in the kitchen. It seemed that their guests unnerved even Grant to an extent.

Finished with everything out front, Alex headed back into the kitchen to see if there was anything else to do. He relaxed slightly, as soon as he was out of sight. At least it meant they couldn't stare at him constantly.

Instead of giving him something to do, Grant just grumbled at him, before shoving a plate of food toward him. It was their routine. Grant fed Alex whenever Kleczka and Rosen were too busy to notice, though Alex suspected that they let things slide on purpose. So far, he had lasted longer than the four previous _international_ employees had, and he suspected that they didn't want him to collapse from lack of food.

Alex wasn't worried about collapsing from lack of food; he had more than enough of that. Sleep though...

A door slammed open, startling both Alex and Grant. They shared wary glances, before hearing someone call out in a foreign language. Despite Alex's vast knowledge of languages, it didn't match any of them. It didn't match any region he was familiar with either. Aside from the fact that it wasn't English—or French, German, Spanish, or Arabic—he couldn't place it in the world.

From the kitchen, Alex could only see part of the action out in the main bar, and he was glad that he had escaped into the back. Muscles had come storming into the main bar area, giving loud orders in the unfamiliar language. His gaze swept the room, as if looking for someone, before storming out with his men close on his heels.

The pub fell into remarkable silence, and Alex realized that he was holding his breath.

Grant had been too, and he let his out in a rush of air. "Berber." Grant murmured to himself. "The language." He nodded toward the now empty room. "Northern Africa, usually Morocco or Algeria. Not too common."

Alex widened his eyes slightly, surprised that Grant seemed to know the language. It had the added effect of making him look frightened from Muscles exit, not relieved. "You know it?" He asked.

"No... I lived there long enough to recognize it though." He sighed, before turning back to his stove. "You should get out there before the regulars come in. I doubt Kleczka will be in a good mood. Or Rosen."

Alex wanted to ask _why_ Grant was familiar with the language, but he knew it wasn't a night to slack off. Kleczka in a mood was never a good thing, though Alex had only seen it once, after a bad business deal involving what sounded like gunshots. Grant had flinched hearing the gunshots, but hadn't said anything more than to be careful around Kleczka. It had been a rough night.

For the first few hours, Alex had the bar to himself. Over the past few months, he had grown used to working with the customers, so it wasn't too hard. Grant seemed determined to make it as easy as possible for him, so by the time Kleczka finally surfaced from his office, there was a slight lull in the orders.

Alex could almost _feel_ the annoyance rippling off Kleczka, and made a point to stay out of the man's way. The evening crowd was in full swing, and neither said anything to the other. It wasn't needed. Over the past months, they had grown used to working together, and made a seamless team. They worked in tandem, catching the needs of the customers without running into each other.

The same routine for the past three months.

_A routine_. Alex almost dropped the mug he was carrying, realizing that though he had been struggling to keep from making a routine anywhere else, _work_ was an extremely predictable routine. It was a routine that almost anyone could follow, and used to their own advantage. SCORPIA could easily track him down, just by waiting at work.

_What if SCORPIA wasn't been here for Kleczka,_ he thought, _what if they were looking for _me_? Did I do anything to tip them off?_ Paranoia came out in full force, and Alex was immediately suspicious of anyone and everything. It was all he could do to keep from lashing out at anyone that so much as nudged him to get his attention.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>Alex was well into his <em>routine<em> of cleaning the pub up by the time Rosen threw the last of the people out around one in the morning. Really, he wanted nothing more than to escape the place, and figure out how to make his schedule more unpredictable. Maybe what he really needed was to move on. Staying in one place was dangerous, and it looked like he had already stayed too long.

Kleczka was still in a bad mood, and Alex knew he didn't like his employee being so twitchy. As far as Alex was concerned, being twitchy and an angry Kleczka were the least of his concerns. He had much bigger fish to fry. Like SCORPIA doing something with Kleczka, and the way Muscles had looked around the pub before he left. He had been looking for _someone_.

Something thumped Alex hard on his shoulder, and he reacted instinctively. In a matter of seconds, Rosen's arm was twisted behind his back at an awkward angle, just inches away from being dislocated. It was Kleczka's glaring and Rosen's swearing that brought Alex back to the present. He hastily let go, and skittered over to the other side of the room, swearing fluently in French. _This was not happening. Not happening_. He wasn't going to lose control.

Kleczka wasn't the only one glaring anymore; Rosen was too, rubbing at his shoulder. Alex hated to think what might have happened. Even Grant was staring at him, having presumably drifted out to see what the commotion was.

Kleczka stalked across the room, sending a deadly glare at Alex. "What the hell was that for?" He demanded.

Alex couldn't help but cringe away; the man was getting too close. He floundered for an excuse that would fit... "Ha-habit. I grew up on the streets. Just don't..." He growled, as Kleczka got close. "_Don't touch me._" His instincts were screaming at him to get out of there, but he wanted to do so with as little scene as possible.

Kleczka's scowl deepened. "_Why_ shouldn't I? You could have dislocated Rosen's shoulder! You would have cost me a bouncer, and I would have had to close the pub!"

Alex grimaced. "Reflexive action. Just... _leave me alone_."

Kleczka kept coming forward, seeming annoyed by his _employee's_ response. "I _know_ what you just did, isn't something you just _learn on the streets_. You could have dislocated his shoulder with the ease of wiping down that table."

Alex's heart rate picked up, and he wondered if he had accidentally shown too much. _They were on to him_. "Ever heard of a _gang_?" He asked, before grabbing the cloth he had been using. "I wouldn't have survived if I didn't know _something_."

He wanted out. Wanted out _now_.

"So you _are_ in trouble with the law." Kleczka said, a lazy smile spreading across his face. He seemed to have gathered from the sentence than Alex could have ever imagined. "So a street brat, grew up in France, has the skills and protection of some gang... what I'd like to know is how you ever got mixed up with SCORPIA."

There were two sharp inhales, from Grant and Rosen, at the name of the organization. Obviously, they knew, but Alex showed no recognition.

"Who?" He asked, trying to keep his wiping the tables normal. Just the name made him want to bolt from the place. He needed to bluff his way out, without raising too many more suspicions. If he disappeared without a trace, anything they _thought_ they knew would be null. He'd be safe for a while longer.

"SCORPIA." Kleczka repeated. "The leader that just visited our lovely establishment seemed rather interested in you. Thought you looked familiar. Of course, he had never heard of an _Alec Pierre_."

Alec had to stop himself from clenching his fists. _Do not break cover_. "Why should he have heard of me? And just for the record." He turned to look at Kleczka directly, not breaking eye contact. _I am not lying_. "I'm not in any trouble with the law. I don't even have a criminal record in France. I stay away from that _stuff_." _Let's not talk about my _real_ record though..._

"Then maybe you're not really from France."

It was Rosen who pointed that out, and Alex swallowed hard. _Had something blown his cover?_ If it all came crashing down, _here,_ there would be no way to pick up the pieces. No way to get out at all. "I showed you my ID when I introduced myself. I believe that it was most definitely _French_."

"It's not impossible to get a forged ID." Grant said, joining the conversation. "You could even make one at home if you're desperate."

Alex glared at him. Everyone was against him. "I can show you my passport, _if you want_." He ground out, anger seeping into his voice. "Though I had thought we were past the distrust of each other." He was treading on thinner and thinner ice with each question.

"Explain this." Kleczka said. "You grew up on the streets, and now you supposedly want to live a life away from the crime, why the hell are you _here_? If your skills of hacking the city surveillance area any indicator, couldn't you have a job pretty much anywhere? Like... I don't know, maybe on the _noncriminal_ side of thing."

Alex let his frustration blend over into his wiping, as he moved from table to table, doing his best to ignore Kleczka. "You _want_ me to turn you in?" He asked, sarcasm biting at his tone.

"You're in deep kid." Grant said. "Why else would you pick a little run down pub that had those criminal dealing on the side? Hmm?"

Alex stared at him for a moment, before returning his attention to the last of the tables. Kleczka and the others weren't going to get any more answers out of him. He was done. At least he had picked up his paycheck days earlier, because he wasn't going to be coming back to the pub any time soon. It had been more than three months since the bombing; he was going to have to risk it in another country. Maybe get another face, maybe not...

* * *

><p>Alex slipped out of the pub as soon as he finished cleaning, clearly indicating that it was someone else's turn to lock up. He was usually one of the last ones out, not wanting someone to try to follow him back to his flat, but right now, he didn't care. They were going to follow him no matter what he did.<p>

With no shift in the morning, by the time they determined he was missing, it would be too late for them to pick up any dropped trails. That was the good thing about being able to vanish completely.

Even though he knew that eventually someone would be following him, he was extremely careful on his way back. He took a seemingly direct route—right through the most crowded area he could find at two in the morning—except for the fact that it was in the opposite direction of his flat. After a few blocks, Alex got the feeling of someone following him, and tuned his pace accordingly.

At the corner of an intersection, Alex turned slightly and caught sight of his tail. Rosen, clearly having some sort of training for following someone, was casually talking on his cell phone while looking in a shop window. It would be easy enough to lose Rosen; he'd just have to do it in a convincing manner.

The originally straight route became a twisting and turning one. Once or twice, Alex backtracked completely, going back down the same street, only on the other side. It gave him a chance to watch Rosen's progress as well. They meandered across the city, until Alex found his target. A modern complex building loomed in front of him, and there were a number of flats. One even had an entrance visible from the street.

That flat just so happened to be one that he had looked at flats months earlier. He had decided against it, from its highly visible door, but right now, it served his purposes. He struggled with picking the lock, a skill that he had never really mastered since Ian taught him _years_ ago, but managed to make it look no more suspicious than a tired person fumbling at his lock.

A glint from just down the street told him that Rosen was still following him, and he made his way into the flat. It was still empty, and he walked through the flat, before climbing out the window on the other side. There was a small ledge, leading from the window, to the fire escape, and he shuffled along, determined not to look down at the three-story drop.

The fire escape creaked slightly when he first landed on it, causing him to freeze. It was unlikely that Rosen had heard it, but he couldn't help but be cautious. With no suspicious sounds coming from anywhere nearby, Alex hurried down the stairs, only pausing for a second at the bottom. There was still a considerable drop to the ground, and he didn't feel like he could risk the noise made by dropping the ladder.

He dropped the last bit, and the impact jarred him. He tucked into a roll, but not before the brunt of the force had been on his legs. Mostly on his right leg. He rolled to the side of the building, and stayed there for a while, rubbing his aching leg, before attempting to stand up again.

_It's been too long,_ he thought, _I'm out of practice_.

When he stood again, his knee tried to buckle underneath him, and he had a feeling that he'd be limping for a few days.

He doubled back around a couple of the buildings, using the walls for support until he was sure that his leg wouldn't give out, before looking for the telltale signs that Rosen was watching the building. A passing car highlighted the figure on the other side briefly, and Alex smiled. Rosen was going to watch the wrong building.

Now he just had to get back to his _real_ flat.

* * *

><p>Somewhere in the midst of his walk back to his flat, the fear of being spotted by SCORPIA came back. Alex truly started panicking when he realized that his elementary evasion tactics would be seen through if a SCORPIA agent—or assassin—were on his tail.<p>

He started running as soon as the worst of the pain from his knee had decreased, weaving and dodging through the city. Some areas were rather busy, as different areas started coming to life. He had spent nearly three hours evading Rosen, and the early morning rush was starting to come. Only the _very_ early people were up, but they were there. Sunrise was still almost three hours away, but people were rising.

Other parts of the city were near silent, aside from the occasional bark of a dog. Alex avoided those places as much as possible, taking comfort in the safety in numbers. Except for the fact that any one of those _numbers_ could be someone following him.

He berated himself for being so naïve. For falling into the charade that he had created and grown so accustomed to. He shouldn't have been so _stupid_. Anyone, _anyone_, could have come across him at the pub, and waited for him to leave. Customers _had_ tried, but they were mostly drunk by then. A _competent person_ could have easily taken him out when he was half-asleep from working too many hours.

Alex slowed his pace, his knee protesting. The fall had seemed to have injured it more than he had first imagined, and something told him that as soon as he stopped moving, it was going to stiffen up. Not what he needed when he was possibly running for his life.

It only dawned on him that he had wandered too far and too long when he found himself in the midst of a group of men with knives. In all honesty, he couldn't remember where he was, or what he had been doing for the last ten minutes. Fatigue was catching up with him, and he was nearly running on empty.

Before he knew it, two men were approaching him, knives out. He backed away swiftly, almost tripping over his feet. His heart pounded, as his eyes tracked the movements of the knives. The men were drunk, calling out for him to give them some _fun_.

He blanched, before turning and running, forgetting about the pain in his knee.

A hand reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around. Alex immediately lashed out with his foot, landing a hit in his attacker's stomach. A grunt told him that he had succeeded, but he was trying not to whimper from the pain of putting all his weight on his knee.

Another person was coming up behind him, and Alex ducked just as he heard a knife cut through the air, where his head had been only moments before. He dropped to the ground, tripping the man up and planting a firm hit to the temple.

"Kleczka's brat, aren't you." Another man had come up behind Alex stealthily, sticking to the shadows. He wasn't from the same group of untrained men that had been taunting Alex. He was on his own, but Alex could still see the image of the tattoo on the back of his neck. "Knew there was something different about you."

Muscles struck. He was fast, too fast for Alex's exhausted body to react to, and the hit to the chest connected painfully. He felt the crack of his ribs, and only just kept himself from yelling out. He fell to his knees, but Muscles grabbed his hair to keep him from going all the way.

"I think we need to have a little chat with my employers." The click of a gun, as it was pressed into the middle of Alex's back, startled him into submission. "They're going to be _very_ interested in you." Muscles jabbed him with the gun. "Get up, and don't even _think_ about trying to get away."

Alex's breath came in sharp, quick, pants, as the fire worked its way up his side. He stood slowly. He was almost afraid of doing something that would cause the gun to go off prematurely. He still had a chance of getting away though...

Muscles pushed him forward, and Alex worked hard to keep the limp out of his step. Muscles didn't need to know he was injured there. If he did, he was more likely to take advantage of it, and possibly make it worse.

They walked down the quiet streets, blending into alleyways. Even when they walked on the normal sidewalks though, no one so much as spared them a second glance. They eventually walked into a car park, and Muscles shoved Alex into the backseat of a car.

"Try anything, and you're just giving me an excuse to shoot." Muscles said, grabbing a piece of rope and tying Alex's hands together. "Speak, and you give me an excuse to shoot. Understood?"

Alex nodded numbly. The rope was tight, and was already starting to cut off circulation. Muscles waved the gun in his face, before slamming the door shut, and walking around to the front. He pulled out a phone, and started making what Alex presumed was a call to his bosses.

While Muscles' back was turned, Alex searched the back of the car for anything that might work to untie the ropes. Or, at least, something that might get a little more give. Muscles had made the armature mistake of tying them _in front_ of Alex, so he could at least see the knot.

Glancing up often, he started to pull the ropes apart, with some help from his teeth. His heart was pounding wildly, and every moment he was afraid that he'd look up and find that Muscles was coming back.

He needed to get out.

There was no option of going with Muscles, since it would mean going to SCORPIA.

Which meant _death_.

He had the knot loosened significantly when saw Muscles hang up his cell phone. Immediately, Alex dropped his hands back to his lap, and started looking for another way out. Muscles got in the car and scowled at Alex.

"You're not getting out of here so easily." He said. "The boss wants to see you, and trust me; it's never good when he _wants to_."

Alex couldn't help but shudder, thinking of the implications. _Rothman. Razim._ Both had been bad news, and they had been _bosses_.

The car started with a slight rumble, and Alex lowered his hands to where Muscles wouldn't see them. He kept working on the knot, waiting for the inevitable moment when he could get away.

It came when they were on a rather deserted bridge. The majority of the city had stayed well away from the west side, from the airport, since the bombing, even though it had been over three months since. The car slowed for a moment, as it seemed that Muscles was taking care to obey the traffic laws, and not be inadvertently caught on one of the many cameras around the city.

What he didn't know though, was that it was a camera dead area. The bridge had had its cameras fail just a few weeks after the bombing. Alex only knew it, because it was one of the many dead areas in London that he hadn't been able to get any cameras for.

_Luck of the devil_.

_Three..._

_Two..._

_Jump!_

Alex dropped the rope to the floor of the car, before pulling on the door handle, jumping out, and rolling with the impact. While the speed of the car was significantly decreased—thus it didn't hurt as much as it could have—on top of the injuries he already had, as far as Alex was concerned, he was in a world of pain.

The car squealed to a stop seconds later, and Alex pushed himself up off the ground and started running. He headed back across the bridge, trying to put as much distance between himself and Muscles as possible.

The first few gunshots told him that he wasn't going to be fast enough. He was halfway across the bridge, yet a bullet only missed him by a hairsbreadth. Alex dodged behind one of the large stone supports, putting himself out of the line of fire. A few more bullets were shot, but when they stopped, Alex knew Muscles was coming after him.

There was nowhere to escape to. Further down the bridge would just put him in prime target position, but staying in place definitely wasn't an option either. He didn't have the energy to put up too much of a fight, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice either.

Glancing up, Alex saw a beam that—with a little climbing—he could reach. If he could at least surprise Muscles, then he had a little bit of a higher chance of winning. Slim, but some.

He climbed up, staying as silent as possible, listening for the telltale signs of Muscles walking. _Muscles walking_. He nearly giggled, at the mental picture in his head. _What's happening?_ He pinched himself, before concentrating on his task again. Now wasn't the time to get distracted. _Or go insane_.

He evened out his breathing, waiting for Muscles to come into view. His chest and ribs were surprisingly painful, and a quick feel of his knee told him that it was starting to swell. Alex knew that it was definitely going to hurt more the next day.

_If I make it that long_.

The slight crunch of gravel, warned of Muscles presence. First, the tip of the gun came around the corner, and it was obvious that Muscles wasn't taking any chances with the _brat_. He came all the way around, and seemed surprised not to find someone standing there quaking in fear.

Alex thanked his luck that people never looked up. He dropped from the beam, knocking the gun away from Muscles with a clatter. The man dropped like a sack of rocks, but the moment they both touched the ground, he was already starting to roll away from Alex. Alex gripped the man, determined not to let him retrieve the gun.

The two of them struggled on the ground, and Muscles got in a few good hits to Alex's ribs, cracking a few more for good measure. Muscles threw him off, and Alex laid there limply, exhausted and beaten.

Muscles was going to kill him now. He had promised after all. Maybe he'd finally get to sleep after that... Maybe the hard rock in his back would disappear and turn into something fluffy. Maybe he'd see his parents again...

_Wait... what rock?_

He rolled slightly, only to discover that Muscles had thrown him onto the gun. The gun was the rock. _The gun_.

Alex grabbed it, heart pounding wildly. From somewhere, his second wind came. He stood up shakily. It seemed that he had gotten a few good hits in on Muscles as well, since the man seemed slightly dazed. He stood up slowly as well, eyeing Alex and the gun.

"You can't do it. You can't shoot me." Muscles said, a sly smile spreading across his face. "You're not going to do it. You don't have it in you. You can't turn yourself into a coldblooded killer."

Alex closed his eyes for a second, hearing not Muscles, but Julius. _Murderer_. "You are nothing to me." He said as cold hated filled his voice. He raised the gun and shot, closing his eyes before he could see if it hit its target. He knew it did. SCOPRIA had trained him too well.

Something splashed into the water and Alex's breath froze. He opened his eyes, and Muscles was gone. He took one look at the gun in his hands, the still _hot_ metal. A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up, as he realized what he had just done. He had _killed_ someone.

As soon as the thought penetrated his mind, he threw the gun as far as possible, wanting away from the incriminating evidence. It splashed into the water, much quieter than the body had, and Alex turned to run again.

The fear of pain and of SCORPIA finally catching up with him, bled into his energy, pushing him further and harder than before. He ran through the quickly awakening city, not caring that he no longer had any pursuers. His pursuer was _dead_.

He pushed through the people that had started to drift onto the sidewalks. It was almost sunrise, and people were abundant everywhere. He didn't care where he was going; he just knew he had to get away from the... _thing_ that was following him. He wanted to get away from it all, even if that meant running out of the city itself.

He ran and ran, not even once thinking about how near to the cars he was running, or how the streets were starting to fill up as people headed to their normal jobs. He barely noticed the people passing him on the streets, the old ladies that glared at him as he pushed past him, the businessmen that scowled as he flew by causing them to spill their coffee, the woman with the baby that he almost knocked over. He didn't see them, as he felt like he was running for his life.

The blaring sound of a car horn brought him back to reality—but only for a moment. There was a screech of brakes as the car tried to avoid him, then the painful impact as it slammed into his side, tossing him like a ragdoll through the air. The ground came up too quickly, and his still fear-ridden mind couldn't react fast enough. There was no saving himself from the pain.

His head hit the ground and darkness immediately set in.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Whhhheeeee. Finally, a chapter that I feel is long enough ^_^ 5000+ words makes me very, very, happy. Some of this chapter was inspired by some of your very lovely reviews (as they got me thinking in more action oriented ways), so thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I can't say it was one person in particular, just everyone together that inspired me to spice up my chapter. Seriously, you guys are so amazing!**

**So, on that note, tell me how I did! The good? The bad? What needs work? What would you like to see/see more of? Any suggestions are greatly appreciated, and help me make my chapters better (and longer).**

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	7. Three Times

**Disclaimer:** _Yes, this plot is totally mine. I claim it. I don't own Alex Rider though. I'm just playing with the characters created, and making their lives as hard as possible =P**  
><strong>_

_**Previously...**_

_He felt like he was running for his life._

_The blaring sound of a car horn brought him back to reality—but only for a moment. There was a screech of brakes as the car tried to avoid him, then the painful impact as it slammed into his side, tos__s__ing him like a ragdoll through the air. The ground came up too quickly, and his still fear-ridden mind couldn't react fast enough. There was no saving himself from the pain._

_His head hit the ground and darkness immediately set in._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 7: Three Times<strong>

Burning, throbbing, pounding, _pain_. Alex felt every breath he took. Scraping, rough, and painful against his broken ribs. Nothing else would hurt like that.

Through the haze of pain, he heard someone talking loudly and frantically in the background. Orders being shouted. Someone else was there, and Alex nearly yelled as something jostled his body. It wasn't just breathing that hurt. It was _everything_.

There was something around his arm, something around his neck as well... _his neck!_

_"—he's waking up. Heart rate's increasing—"_

_"—kid's going to be in one world of pain when he does. He'll need—"_

Alex tried to push away the hand that had taken a hold of his arm. He tried to sit up, ignoring the extreme pain that went all the way from his head to his legs. Hands kept him from succeeding, pushing him back down onto the—_bed?_

When he opened his eyes, bright lights shone in, effectively blinding him. He struggled, thinking only of SCORPIA, Rosen, _Muscles_... Panic and fear flooded though him, and he fought even more desperately. _He can't get me. I can't get captured._

"Come on kid, hold still. You're all right, just calm down." A voice said.

"No... no..." He wasn't giving in to this. He wasn't going to let them get him. _SCORPIA never forgives__ or __forgets. No!_ He needed to get away. They were _here_. He choked as fresh pain flowed through him, highlighting all the little pains he hadn't felt only moments before. "Let me... _go_."

"You're safe, just relax. Hold still or you'll end up hurting yourself."

The hand latched onto his arm again, but Alex pulled away with all his might. He wasn't going to play their games. He was getting out. SCORPIA wasn't going to have him again. He tried to roll away, to roll off the bed, but there seemed to be a surplus of hands holding him down.

"Have to... go. Let me... _go!_" He tried to kick, to get someone to let up just a little, but no one was within reach. His struggles grew less and less pronounced as the pain and exhaustion started to take over, sapping the little energy he had left. "You can't... have me. No..." He broke off in a sob. The pressure on his arms relaxed just slightly, and he lashed out, hoping to get free. _Anything_.

His hand connected with something soft, but it didn't do anything. There was a muffled curse, before the pressure came back, holding him down again. He wanted to scream, to make them let go, but all that came out was a choked sob. _Everything hurt_.

A hand touched his chest, near where the broken ribs were judging by the flash of pain that accompanied the touch. Alex reacted violently to the touch. _No one_ was to touch him. He had warned Kleczka. _Don't touch me_. There were a few surprised exclamations from whoever was around him, but the hands holding him down didn't let up. He twisted and writhed, wanting nothing more than to get away, ignoring the pain that each movement brought.

He started feeling lightheaded when he realized what a struggle it was to actually get a breath in. The pain ripped up and down his chest, making the breaths light and shallow. Something covered his face, and he nearly reacted again, thinking someone was suffocating him. _Or waterboarding_... His breath hitched as the same feeling of helplessness came over him.

_"—allergic reaction—"_

_"—sedate him, short-term. He needs tests—"_

Alex heard the words, tried to act on them—he did _not_ want to be sedated—but nothing seemed to be responding anymore. He swore as fluently as possible in as many languages he could think of in his head. They were already sedating him.

The words started to slur together in his mind as the effects increased, and soon the feeling of pressure relaxed. While he doubted that the people had just let go, he couldn't be bothered to care anymore. Someone was still talking to him, trying to get some sort of response from him, but he was too out of it to care. _They_ had won this round.

He almost welcomed the blackness—only bothering to fight it for a few moments, knowing that it was hopeless—it meant relief from the pain.

* * *

><p>If it could have been possible, he would have been breathing rapidly. If it could have been possible, he would have been planning the best escape route from the room. If it could have been possible, he would have long since left the room.<p>

As it was, Alex could do none of those things. Air whooshed into his lungs at a painfully slow and steady rate, making him want to cry as each 'breath' shot another wave of pain though him. It was pointless to plan an escape route, especially when he couldn't even _see_ where he was. And he most definitely couldn't leave the room, since the sedatives they had given him seemed to have a paralyzing effect that took longer to wear off.

They had him trapped.

There were people nearby, of course. He could hear them well enough—just not well enough to actually make out what they were saying. It was more a jumble of sounds that his brain refused to translate into any known language.

A weightless feeling took over for a moment, before he was painfully lowered onto another bed. He would have gasped—or screamed—if it had been possible, but it wasn't. More people were around, being not quite as gentle as the ones before.

Movement came back to his upper body first, but he didn't open his eyes. He was still tired. Maybe... maybe if... _Snap out of it!_ He moved his fingers slightly, anticipating the movement it would take to get out. He had to take everyone nearby, by surprise.

Someone prodded his side, somewhat gently, but it still hurt. He didn't want them to know he was waking up. He didn't have to worry about yelling—he couldn't with the tube in his throat—but it was impossible to stop the reactive instinct to pull away.

_"—waking up. Be careful—"_

_"—agitated earlier."_

Someone took a hold of his arm, most likely as a precaution, but Alex instinctively lashed out. He heard a strange sound—a strangled cry—and almost immediately, more people were holding down his limbs, keeping him from thrashing more.

"—need you to calm down. You're safe here. We're just trying to help."

Alex was having none of it. He wanted to fight them. He couldn't let SCORPIA win. Not now. Not after all he had gone through to be free from them.

He wanted to cry when the drugs started taking effect again. They had him. He was trapped.

He never really registered when it all became black again.

* * *

><p>Waking up in an unfamiliar room was not something new to Alex. Waking up from being sedated—or rather tranquilized in most cases—wasn't new either. He hated the feeling though. The grogginess that seemed to take over completely. The headache that seemed determined to keep his thoughts in a jumbled mess...<p>

As he slowly woke up, and shook off the worst of the side-effects, he took stock of the room without opening his eyes, determining that it was small in size, but empty aside from himself. Opening his eyes, he confirmed that fact. The only things in the room were his bed, himself, and a whole bunch of medical equipment.

_Medical equipment?_

That didn't fit with what he knew of SCORPIA. Then again, neither did the whole patching up before torture. In fact, he was starting to have some pretty strong doubts that SCORPIA had anything to do with this _here_.

Between the headache and haze of drugs, his mind was cloudy, and he barely realized that he had been staring at the door for a full ten minutes without moving. A noise next door brought him back to reality, and he started to wonder what he was doing here.

As strange as it seemed for SCORPIA to fix him up, he couldn't throw his suspicions out the window. They _might_ have some ulterior motive for capturing him. Or, it could be a perfectly normal hospital that wanted to know just who the hell he was. He doubted that the ID would stand up to a deep probe—at least on the medical side—and someone would catch the forgery.

Either way, things looked bad. The only way out, was to escape.

He pushed the oxygen mask off his face, glad that it had been switched from the tube. _That_ would have made it impossible to escape. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about it. Sitting up—gingerly—he started formulating a plan to get out. He had to get out before a nurse came in and checked on him, but he had no idea how long that would be. It could be only a few minutes for all he knew.

A quick glance told him that there were no cameras in the room. At least, not highly visible cameras. If it were SCORPIA, they'd have cameras somewhere in the room, and would already know he was awake. He needed to get started if he was getting out.

His ribs protested as he sat up on the edge of the bed. He put a hand to his side, before noticing that his wrist was encased in a brace. Not a cast, just a brace. He flexed his arm experimentally, wincing when his wrist twisted just right. Not broken, but it still hurt. He pulled the IV out of his other arm, grimacing at the pull of the tape. _There went the medicine keeping me sane_.

The side that got hit by the car—his right—definitely hurt more than the left. Both sides looked battered and bruised, but the aches came mostly from the one side.

He glanced at the other monitor, the one tracking his heart rate. It was sure to have some sort of alarm, so he sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, trying to regain his bearings. For all he knew, the moment he unhooked it, the alarm would go off, and a waiting nurse—or man with gun—would burst in. He'd have to make a dash for it.

Alex looked down at himself briefly. Too bad that dash didn't include decent clothes... at least the pajamas he was in were better than the usual hospital gowns. It would have to do.

As soon as he stood up, the rest of his injuries immediately made themselves known. _All_ his muscles were sore from the beating they had taken—_when?_ How many days had it been? His knee that he had injured jumping from the fire escape felt less than stable, but he'd run on worse before. He'd have to risk it if he wanted to get out of the building.

Edging closer to the door, he got as far as he could before pulling the last monitor off. It gave him five seconds, but that was all he needed to get out the door and start down the hall. From there, he was able to watch the fast reaction. A nurse jumped up from the station, and made their way to the room, not giving off the impression that they were hurrying. Alex knew better.

He picked up his pace, walking down the hall as fast as he dared, ignoring the pain that was starting to come back. It seemed that no matter how good the medicine was, it couldn't compete with what he was doing. Too bad it was only going to get worse.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be out of bed." The nurse had come out of his room apparently. Alex glanced around, hoping that they were talking to someone else. He was the only one in the hall.

Alex forgot about being sneaky. He turned and ran. He skidded around a corner, barely missing two doctors in the hall. Now _everyone_ was sure to know that _something_ was up.

He kept running, nearly wincing every other step as his bad leg thudded against the floor. Within moments, he felt pursuers on his tail, and a glance back told him that they were from the hospital security. So, maybe not SCORPIA... _yet_. At least it gave him a better chance of escaping.

People were yelling in the halls as Alex slipped between carts, beds, and anything else he could find to slow down the people on his tail. He ran faster than ever, as adrenaline replaced the painkiller that was quickly wearing off. He ran into walls and corners a few times, when he knee tried to betray him, but there was always just enough space to keep him from being caught. Even through the adrenaline though, he couldn't mask the fact that he was quickly running out of breath.

He started slowing down, hoping to catch his breath again. A sharp pain in his side told him that he was running close to overdoing it. He kept up his dodging and weaving through visitors and patients, as he reached halls that were more crowded.

More people joined the chase, and Alex took anything he could find and tossed it in the way. Visitors were yelling, some screaming when he dumped a tray full of medical supplies—nothing too valuable though. He knew where to stop. He just wanted away from the place.

A sign on his right caught his eye. The stairs were in sight. Now he just had to get down another level. He glanced back, to see how close his pursuers were. Something told him that he needed to put more space between himself and them. There was always a possibility that there would be backup waiting downstairs to catch him.

He turned back to see where he was running to, just in time to see hands reach out from nowhere and grab him by the shoulders. The firm grip didn't relent, even when Alex tried to thrash. They were too strong. He was caught.

Defeat welled up inside him, as he realized the only person that could have caught him must have something to do with SCORPIA. He _wasn't_ safe in the hospital. He sank to the floor, and his captor went down with him. The sharp pains in his side had increased, making catching his breath completely painful.

Something told him it was useless to fight anymore. Whoever had caught him—a SCORPIA agent, most likely—was significantly stronger. And it was impossible to struggle with his arm in a brace. It was pointless.

Panic and fear came when he realized that he _couldn't_ catch his breath. Each sharp, irregular breath felt like knives in his side, and he just knew, _just knew_, that they were coming in too fast. Too fast, and the oxygen was actively bypassing his system.

Dark spots danced in front of his eyes, and he blinked trying to keep them away. He gulped in breaths, trying to hold them in longer, but it _hurt_. Weariness and pain set in, taking over his senses and his body started to go limp, as his energy went to more vital areas.

Through half lidded eyes, Alex caught sight of his captor, who had started calling for someone to help. "_You_..." He said, but it was barely more than a whisper. His captor looked down at him, a worried and puzzled look on his face.

For the third time, unconsciousness took Alex.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Dun, dun, duhhhhh. ^_^ So, who do think Alex's captor is? If anyone actually guesses correctly, I will give them virtual cookies!**

**Sorry about the cliffie though. I'm sure this chapter answered practically no questions from the last chapter and made even more. Couldn't be avoided though (actually, I'm sure it could, but then it wouldn't be interesting, would it?).**

**OH MY GOSH, can I just say, I'm blown away by the amount of reviews I got on the last chapter. *huggles to all reviewers* I think I said this last time, but you guys are all so amazing. If you're not reviewing... *nudge* *nudge* it would be very awesome if you did!**

**Now, for the potentially bad news. My updates might slow down sometime in the near future. I might be able to eke out another week or two of twice-weekly updates, but it will probably go down to once a week. I'm not about to abandon the story anytime soon, it just might take me a little longer than usual to get the chapters up. Life is getting in the way. Gah.  
><strong>

** S.B.L.  
><strong>


	8. Wishful Thinking

**Disclaimer:**_ The name's Rider. Alex Rider._

_Guess what! I _DON'T_ own him. *sighs*_

_**Previously...**_

_Through half lidded eyes, Alex caught sight of his captor, who had started calling for someone to help. "You..." He said, but it was barely more than a whisper. His captor looked down at him, a worried and puzzled look on his face._

_For the third time, unconsciousness took Alex._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 8: Wishful Thinking<strong>

Hospitals were the worst. Ben hated them with a passion, and did all he could to spend as little time as possible in one. Unfortunately, it always seemed that the doctors were determined to keep him there longer than necessary.

At least _he_ wasn't in the hospital this time. His brother, Luke, had landed himself in one after an accident with a four-wheeler. The medium sized Hammersmith hospital he was in was rather different from what Ben was used to though. There was no outpouring of military and ex-military personnel roaming the halls, no millionaires here and there, and the security—though fairly good—had nothing on St. Dominic's.

He was glad he didn't have to deal with St. Dominic's. It was so much easier to get around visiting hours here at this hospital, and he'd almost say the nurses were friendlier. He was glad for that, especially since it looked like Luke was going to be staying a while. Ben couldn't hold back the slight shudder that came with thinking of the accident. It had been horrific, and Luke had been lucky to survive without being paralyzed.

As far as Ben was concerned, it was one thing to deal with injuries in his work—and so far, he had plenty since he switched to MI6. It was expected there though. It was a dangerous job, but someone had to do it. Dealing with injuries in the family—and possibly fatal or life changing at that—was entirely different. They had been extremely lucky it hadn't been worse than it was.

Ben took the lift up to the second floor, heading for Luke's room. He had already visited a few times over the past few days, as had their parents. Since their parents worked and lived in Liverpool though, they had to go back. Leaving Luke alone in the London area hospital until the weekend. Ben was on leave from MI6, and with some pressuring from his mum, decided to stop by during the day. If nothing else, the two of them could keep each other company.

Underneath the room number, room 214, there was a slip of paper identifying the patient. _'Luke Daniels.'_ Normally the rooms held two people at a time, but so far, Luke had had the room all to himself. Ben almost pitied whoever managed to get Luke as a roommate. Once he was on some less strong painkillers, he was sure to revert to his normal self—one that talked a mile a minute, for hours on end.

Ben went into the room, and found Luke in the same place he had been for the last few days, lying in the bed. Both of his arms, from wrist to shoulder, were encased in wrappings. The left side of his face sported a rather spectacular looking bruise, many small cuts, and a neat row of stitches along his jaw, that Ben just knew was going to scar. Luke was still grinning when he saw Ben though. He was still definitely on some strong painkillers.

"Ben! Coming to visit your poor little brother? Mum thought I was going to be alone for the rest of the week."

Ben couldn't help but smile slightly. Not even a trip to the hospital and surgery could suppress Luke's enthusiasm. Of course, the painkillers didn't help any with that. They just made him more excitable than normal. The only benefit was Luke would get tired after an hour or so, and the room would be subject to silence once again. Until the cycle repeated all over again. "Well... Mum did mention it yesterday. Since I'm on leave, I've got nothing to do, so..." He shrugged. Leave would last for another two months, and possibly longer than that if MI6 didn't have another mission for him.

"Bring any contraband?" Luke asked. "Sweets, real food, decent tea...?"

Ben laughed. "Nope. You know the rules. It's up to Mum to bring that, so you'll have to wait."

Luke laughed slightly, before shifting his weight, _carefully_. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, before seeming to search the room for something. Ben had to hold back a laugh at the look in Luke's eyes; he looked both hyper and tired at the same time.

"Do you think breaking your arms multiple times is worse than getting shot?" Luke asked, finally settling on staring at Ben unabashedly.

Ben resisted the urge to slap his brother to make him stop staring, and self-consciously rubbed at the scar on his arm. "Depends on where you get shot." He said, thinking of the myriad of places he was thankful not to have been shot in. "I can think of a few places that would be worse than breaking bones. PT is killer sometimes."

Luke started to shrug, abut immediately froze, pain flashing across his face. Painkillers could only work so well. "Tell me about it. Gosh, _moving_ is killer." He stared at his arms rather disdainfully. "Not that I can even do PT for this yet. I guess I'll have to cross that bridge when I get to it."

Ben ruffled Luke's hair, receiving a scowl in return. "You'll start feeling better in the next couple of weeks. The painkillers will really start working well, just as soon as they decide to take you off of them."

Luke glared at him, but didn't make any attempt to move. "Well that's reassuring. I'm sure you'd have all kinds of knowledge about this, oh mighty one. How many times have you been in the hospital in the past year? Five times?"

Ben snorted. "Only four."

"My point exactly."

"And three of those times were just routine stuff." A few nights in the hospital after being starved for a couple weeks. A week fighting off some vicious malaria like bug that he had caught while he was in the Amazon on a mission. Oh, and a few days here and there for post-mission recover. So _maybe_ more than four times. What Luke didn't know wouldn't hurt him though. Besides, that was only in the _last year_. "It was only when I got shot that I actually learned anything interesting."

Luke raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah?"

"Yep. Painkillers are wonderful things, until they decide to decrease the dosage and start PT." Ben grinned, enjoying teasing his brother. In reality, it wasn't _quite_ as bad as that, but it still wasn't any fun. "Look on the bright side; I doubt you'll be going back to university any time soon. Good thing it happened between terms."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Sure, no classes. This is _exactly_ how I wanted to spend my holiday. Instead, I'll probably be stuck here right up until Christmas. I think I'd take my worst class over _this_ any day. Do you have any idea what it's like to be stuck in one place for hours on end?"

Ben sent him a look. They had _just_ gone over that. Did the painkillers cause short-term memory loss as well?

"Right... not going there..." Luke glanced around the room again, before his eyes landed on Ben's arm, which he was still unconsciously rubbing. "How's your arm anyway?"

Ben frowned at him. "You do realize it's been nearly a year since then?" He sighed. "It's fine Luke. Hasn't given me any trouble, and as I said, PT is killer."

"Are you ever going to tell me how you got it?" He sounded like a five year old asking for a bedtime story.

Ben couldn't help it, he laughed at the mental picture. Luke looked a little put out, but didn't say anything more. "Nope. Sorry, but it's more than my job's worth than to tell you." Telling highly classified secrets to one of the most _un-secretive_ eighteen year old's Ben knew, was not a good idea. Then again, Luke was the _only_ eighteen year old he knew. Ben still found it hard to believe that his little brother was eighteen already. In university as well... a choice that Ben would have scoffed at when he was Luke's age.

Ben had been glad when Luke hadn't shown any interest in going into a career in the military. He doubted that their parents could deal with the constant worry for _both_ their sons. Not that Luke wasn't the cause of most of their grey hairs already... he had a way of trying the most death defying things, and usually came out unscathed. His luck just seemed to have run out. Or... if you looked at it in a different light, it was his luck that kept him from being permanently injured.

"Spoilsport." Luke grumbled, bringing Ben's attention back. "Did you bring anything interesting? Hell, a book even?"

Ben snorted. "And you're going to read it how? I'm not holding it in place for you to read."

Luke glared at him. "Fine, I'll just bore you to death then. Try explaining _that_ to your employers."

"I won't be able to if I'm dead."

"We'll see about that."

Ben sent him an exasperated look. It was the medicines. It _had_ to be the medicines. Luke might be crazy, but he wasn't _that_ crazy.

Luke carried through with his threat, and did his best to bore Ben. He went on and on about his classes at university, the professors, the girl that lived down the street that he was sure was a Russian spy—she wasn't, she was a Ukrainian spy—because she was suspicious of almost everything. On and on, about the friends behind the various get-well cards, and pretty much anything else that kept his mind off his current predicament.

Ben was more than happy to listen, getting caught up on his brother's life over the past six months—or more. Occasionally he threw in a story or two about his unit from SAS, spicing the monotony of the day up with a little action. Luke was familiar with his unit mates, and didn't seem to understand just _how_ Ben could leave them for some _boring_ job. He didn't know about MI6—he'd probably have gone on and on about Ben being a spy—but Ben wasn't about to tell him _that_.

Luke drifted off occasionally, often in the middle of some story, but Ben wasn't too surprised, painkillers had a way of doing that to everyone. Well... and serious injuries did too... Ben had come prepared, ready for almost anything—well, maybe not armed kidnappers in the hospital, but that wasn't going to happen anyway.

With Luke sleeping, Ben managed to get some reading in. Mostly it was the reports that pertained to the airport bombing so many months before, craftily hidden in the form of a book, thanks to Smithers. He seemed to understand that just because Ben was on leave, didn't mean he wanted to be out of the loop. The bombing had affected more than just his work life.

MI6 and MI5 had been working together for almost four months, trying to figure out just _who_ had been behind the bombing. Mrs. Jones was convinced that it was SCORPIA trying to make a point, though the only evidence was circumstantial. The bombing was right up their alleyway, after all, and there was no shortage of important people that died in the explosion. From normal everyday citizens, to multibillionaires, to world peace activists, to some of MI6's own, they had all been killed indiscriminately.

While the rest of the country seemed to have recovered some from the disaster, pulling together in a way that seemed almost impossible, MI6 and MI5 were still trying to pick up the pieces. The deputy head, Brandon Milton, had been at the airport that day and had died in the initial explosion. Ben's partner, Jake Freedman, had been there as well, coming back from a vacation in the states with his wife and children. _Dead_.

The first few weeks, headquarters had been nearly as silent as a crypt. Almost everyone on duty at the time was emotionally involved. More than half the agency had lost _someone_ to the bombing, even those that were out in the field.

Even almost four months later, months after the disaster of the decade, the agency was still rotating agents out for leave. Ben had finally gotten his. He was too emotionally involved for the case, and with no partner, they weren't ready to send him out solo. He needed time off to figure things out again. Redirect his priorities.

By some stroke of luck, the start of his leave had coincided with Luke's term break, and Ben had welcomed the escape from the world of espionage. He had been able to relax for the first time in weeks, and his family had been more than happy to see him more than just once every month or so. Luke had stayed in the spare room in his flat for a few days after term ended, and they had had plans to spend the next few weeks in Liverpool with their parents, before Ben went back to his flat and Luke went back to university.

It was a good distraction for Ben. While his family didn't know what all was going on in his life—they most certainly did not know about MI6—they understood that he needed a break. Well... he needed a break, but still kept up on the reports that came in each day. He had asked Smithers to make something so he wouldn't fall behind. Unlike the other agents, he had lost more than just _one_ person to the bombing, and he wanted to know the moment someone made a breakthrough.

So far though, the reports had said practically nothing. Everything that came through was something that the agency already knew. No group had stepped up to take the blame, though there were many that were profiting from it. Deep cover agents from all over were reporting back, but there was no useful information. Aside from a tip here and there that SCORPIA was looking for someone, nothing came from that particular group.

Ben had ignored most of it, as it had no relevance to what he wanted to know about, but he couldn't stop himself from reading some of the report just for the fun of it. Maybe he'd finally figure out the best way to write the mission reports...

All in all, the first week or so of leave had been rather restful. A welcome break from the hectic day-to-day struggle of being a full time spy.

The accident with Luke though... well, it had put a bit of a damper on the entire _restful vacation_. Four-wheelers were perfectly safe, as long as the driver was careful. Or, as long as the driver didn't manage to flip it. Luke had flipped, somehow hitting an embankment just wrong. The force had thrown him, and he had landed on his arms before tumbling across the ground a ways.

Ben had been the first to react, the only one that hadn't been shocked by fear, and had been surprised to find his brother still conscious. Amazingly, despite the amount of pain he was in from the myriad of broken bones, that didn't change until long after the medics had taken him away.

And that had only been a few days earlier...

"Wha' so intressin'?" Luke mumbled, startling Ben from his musings.

"Oh, you know, not much." Ben shrugged. "Just a book."

"Yaa, righ'." He yawned, wincing slightly as the few stitches on his jaw pulled. "You never—" He was cut off by another yawn. "—never read if you don't have to. You _always_ hated reading, especially big thick books like _that_." He nodded toward the book in Ben's hands.

"This one's interesting."

"Uh huh." Luke turned his head slightly, reading the title off the spine. "_'Britain's Most Powerful: A Study of the Heads of Defense'._ Nope, Ben, I don't think anyone but a nerd would find that interesting. If you read, you'd read fiction. Trust me."

Ben raised an eyebrow, wondering if maybe the book choice hadn't been the wisest on Smithers part. The man seemed to like irony though... "Sorry to disappoint you, but this is, in fact, a _very_ interesting book."

"But you never read. You said it yourself; reading is a waste of time."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Oh, grow up Luke. That was ten years ago. I like to think I've expanded my horizons a little since I was fourteen."

"Right..." He didn't sound like he believed him. "So, what's it about?"

"The Heads of Defense." Ben deadpanned.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Really? I would have never guessed."

Ben put his book aside for the moment, determined not to let Luke interrogate him further. Just because he had actually read the book before, didn't mean he wanted to give Luke a detailed synopsis. At least he didn't have to worry about Luke trying to pick it up or something.

Luke's head thumped back against his pillows and he sent a halfhearted glare at his brother. "Hospitals are boring. There's nothing to do except sleep."

Ben was about to reply when he heard some kind of commotion out in the hall. Luke heard it too, and he looked at the door curiously. A sound came through that most definitely didn't fit into the sounds of a hospital. Yelling. And with each second, the yelling in the hall seemed to be getting closer.

"I take that back. Maybe there's actually something interesting here. What do you think is happening out there?" Luke asked. "World War Three?"

Someone screamed, and Ben cautiously headed toward the door. He had been joking when he thought about the armed kidnappers! He glanced back at Luke, wondering if he should be worried about his brother's safety or not. It was unlikely that anyone would be after _him_, so he'd be safe for the moment. He wouldn't go too far though, just in case.

He made sure to close the door though.

Ben stepped into the hall slowly, instincts taking over. The yelling was coming from down the hall, closer to the nurses' desk where the majority of patients and visitors were milling about. Or, had been milling about until the commotion started.

Ben almost laughed—a nervous kind of laugh—when he figured out what was going on. It seemed that a patient was on the loose, one desperately trying to lose the five security guards hot on his tail. He took anything he could find, and threw it in the way, slowing the security guards progress.

Ben backed down the hall, sticking to the nearly nonexistent shadows, knowing that the person was going for the nearest exit. He assessed that the only danger the civilians were in was from flying utensils and the possibility of being pushed. So far, the person hadn't caused harm to anyone, as if he was being extra careful.

A quick glance told Ben that he was nearing the stairway, the closest exit. It wasn't until the person was closer that Ben realized it was only a teenager. He was injured—probably from whatever landed him in the hospital in the first place—as his wrist was wrapped in some kind of bright colored brace, and his movements were starting to slow down.

The moment Ben was looking for came when the teen glanced back at his pursuers, probably to judge their distance. The only thing between him and the stairs was a longish stretch of empty hall. Or so he thought.

Ben stepped out of the shadows and caught a hold of the boy. The first touch told Ben a number of things. The boy was strong at one point, but medicine and exhaustion were slowing down his reaction times. He had also been trained in some sort of fighting method, most likely karate, from the movements he _attempted_ to make. He struggled against Ben, trying to squirm away, but Ben wasn't letting up on his grip.

Eventually, it seemed that exhaustion caught up with him, and he started to sink toward the floor. Ben went down with him, intent on not letting the boy get away, in case it was some sort of trick. The fast, irregular breaths told a completely different story.

The boy started to go limp, as the effort to breathe seemed to be too much. Ben had the horrid revelation that he could be holding someone that was _dying_ in his arms. "He... he needs help!" The security guards and a few nurses were trying to make their way through the crowd that had gathered, but it felt like they weren't making any progress.

"_You..._" The voice startled Ben, and he glanced down only to see the boy staring at him. There was a slight expression of recognition on his face, leaving Ben with the feeling that they had met before. The boy's eyes closed, as he was still gasping for air, before his head lolled to the side, unconscious.

A nurse came at almost the same instant, and frantically secured an oxygen mask to the boy's face, before a medical team got there. Ben was pushed to the side of the hall as the team tended to the boy. They didn't seem to care that they were blocking the middle of the hall, fully intent on their work.

Security pushed away the other observers, clearing the hall, but had let Ben stay where he was. He suspected they were going to ask him some questions eventually, questions that he wasn't sure how to answer. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen the boy somewhere before, but... he didn't know anyone that age. He didn't even know any of Luke's friends, much less a random black haired teenager.

There was something familiar there though... there had been some sort of recognition on the boy's part... Then again, it might have just been because the boy hadn't sounded accusing when Ben caught him. Just tried.

"Sir?" One of the security guards approached him, and Ben wondered if they were going to ask him to leave the hall. "Are you familiar with him?"

It took Ben a moment to register what the guard meant, and quickly shook his head. "No... At least, I don't think so. He reminds me of someone, but I don't know who."

"Is that why you stopped him?"

"What? Oh... no... I was with my brother, and we heard the yelling. Sounded like someone was trying to bring down the hospital." He shrugged. "I checked the hall, he was running, and it looked like the only way someone was going to catch him, was to get in front of him. So I did." He pulled out his dog tags, as a way of explanation. "Ex-SAS. Kind of felt obligated to help out."

"I guess we have you to thank that he didn't get any further." He nodded toward the teen that was currently being moved onto a stretcher. He looked deathly pale. "You're lucky he was worn out by the time you caught him though. There were problems when he first came in."

"Violent?" Ben asked. It didn't seem to fit, as it looked like the boy had done his best to keep anyone else from getting hurt. Self-defense, possibly, especially after what Ben had learned from the struggle. Bad injuries could result in disorientation, and he would have lashed out at anyone. Ben had seen soldiers do it before. Though the boy wasn't a soldier...

"No... we don't think so. He's just had a long string of bad luck." He shook his head. "You think you've seen him before? The police have been trying everything over the past week to get an identity on him."

Ben glanced back at the rapidly disappearing form. The only person he knew like that was... well, the kid was _dead_. It was impossible. Besides, this boy had black hair. Impossible.

_Hair color__ can be changed_.

Ben shook his head, doubt starting to creep in. _It couldn't, could it?_ "I... honestly, I feel like I've seen him, but I don't know where. If I... if I remember, I'll be sure to let someone know."

The guard nodded. "It's the best you can do. Now, you said you were here with your brother. Is he a patient?"

"Yeah, room 214."

"You'll be there for a few hours?"

Ben nodded.

"Someone might want to speak with you later, try to get all this figured out. What was your name?"

"Ben Daniels."

* * *

><p>"You took your time." Luke said, when Ben finally came back into the room. "You realize that the commotion out there disappeared a <em>long<em> time ago."

Ben ran a hand through his hair, not able to get his mind off the boy. He was _so_ familiar... "Sorry. I got a little... _caught up_."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "With what? I heard them clearing the hall out nearly half an hour ago. What happened out there?"

"This teen tried to pull a runner and was causing general mayhem. I stepped in to give security a little help."

"A little _help_? What'd you do, catch them?" He didn't even wait for a response, glaring at Ben. "You did, didn't you. Why couldn't security get them?"

Ben shrugged, not at all fazed by the glare. Wolf's was much worse, and even now, it barely worked. "He had the lead, and I was in his path. Simple capture, really."

"Right..." Luke fixed him with a speculative gaze. "So you just decided to stick around, just because you could. Or there was something else..."

"He was in a bad shape. Not really ready to be running around, if you know what I mean." Ben rubbed his forehead. "He was _really_ familiar too. I don't know why. I don't know any teens... not even in your age group." He sighed. "Hell, I barely know anyone outside of _work_ now."

That was it, all the feelings about the boy came right back to that one thing. _Work_. It couldn't though. It was impossible. The only person in that age group was dead. Had been for almost four months. There had been no other teenagers around MI6 in the last eight months either.

Luke sighed. "See? This is why you need to get out more. I think your entire life revolves around your _work_. Maybe you should have a take-your-brother-to-work-day, so I can figure out what the hell it is you do all the time."

Ben glared at him. It was a sore point between the two of them. Luke hated the fact that Ben was never truthful about his work. He didn't believe the _lie_ that Ben had to live, but it was clear that he didn't know what _really_ went on.

"I know, I know. Don't ask, because there's no way in hell you're going to answer."

It was a rather tense afternoon on both accounts. Ben couldn't help but let his thoughts wander back to the boy, and Luke was annoyed that there was clearly something Ben wasn't telling him. It only took a few well-placed remarks from Luke to send the mood spiraling downward. It would only last the afternoon though. In the morning, everything would be back to normal.

Ben headed home around the same time that Luke got his food. He could only stick around in a hospital for so long before becoming bored. Reports could only entertain for so long. He nodded to the security guard that had talked to him, on the way out, and headed back to his flat.

His mind kept turning over the problem of the unidentified teen. The fact that the hospital didn't know who he was either, made it all the more puzzling. He was sure if he looked into the right channels, he'd find the searches in progress for identifying the boy.

And a week already? The teen had been alone for a whole week. While he had seemed competent—aside from the major breathing difficulties—it sounded like it might have been the first time that he was _truly_ awake. Disoriented and fearful, causing him to lash out and attempt to escape... in all honesty, it fit almost exactly how Ben himself would have acted. But a teen?

Ben's interaction with anyone in the age range, aside from occasional meetings with his brother and friends, was limited. Even then, his brother seemed older than the boy in the hospital did. Out in the streets, he might pass one or two, when they were on their way to and from school, but there was never any close contact. No reason for their images to be in his mind. The only teen he had ever met up close, since joining the SAS, was Alex. The only problem was... Alex was dead.

Mrs. Jones had informed Ben personally of the deaths, both of Alex and of his partner. Alex had died in the airport bombing, while running away from his new home in California. It had seemed that even Mrs. Jones had taken the death of the teen hard. He was supposed to be away from the world of espionage, safe in his California home, safe from the people that wanted him dead. It had merely been chance that had killed him in the end. Luck that had finally run out.

Ben went through the motions of making his supper, still working over the problem in his head. He had done it often enough before. Normally, the problems were work-related though. This wasn't. Not in the slightest. It was just a teen that seemed oh-so-familiar. One that had, for some reason or another, _recognized_ him.

He was in the midst of eating his supper as his mind tried to force the pieces into place. The only answer possible was _impossible_, but the more he told himself that, the more it seemed like the only answer. No one else, at that age, would recognize him for any sort of reason.

The only solution was a clear one though. He was going to have to talk to the boy...

* * *

><p>The next morning, Ben walked into the hospital, prepared for the inevitable confrontation. Just to be on the safe side that no one had identified the boy overnight, he took the stairs up, using the small little computer program Smithers had added to his phone to hack into the hospital records. It would have to work by process of elimination. By the time he reached the second floor, he was in and starting his search.<p>

Luke was asleep when Ben arrived in his room, so Ben kept looking through the records. He was able to narrow the search down significantly, just by what he knew. For one, the boy was... well, a _boy_. The boy had to have come from somewhere on the second floor—though it was possible that they had moved him. The boy had been in the hospital for at least a week, and probably not more than two. And, the boy was definitely under twenty, and older than ten. That helped, _some_.

"There must be something really interesting on there." Luke said, managing to startle Ben again. Ben hadn't even realized he was waking up. "Don't you know it's bad form to keep governmental secrets on your phone? Anyone could find it."

Ben cracked a smile. Luke had actually hit it spot on, but that wasn't what he was looking at currently. Besides, Smithers would never let someone with potential government secrets out with a non-secure phone.

"So... what are you so frantically searching for?" Luke asked. "I thought you were on leave for two months. Is work not letting you go? Or are you just bored?"

"No... just... something came up. It's not work though." Or, he didn't think it was work. Yet.

"Uh huh."

Ben glared at him.

"Ben... you're supposed to leave work behind when you're on leave. Distance yourself. It's not healthy to have work all the time."

Ben kept glaring. "Now you sound like my shrink."

Luke's eyes widened slightly, and he grinned. "So you do have one..."

Ben groaned. Luke was _never_ going to forget that. "You do realize everyone in combat as one at one time or another." It was a partially formed lie, Ben had no idea if it was actually true or not, but all _his_ experiences had involved one at the end of the tunnel. Then again, his experience with combat was rather violent.

Luke snorted. "Right..."

Ben's phone buzzed in his hand, alerting him to the fact that his search had completed. There were only three matches, two of which he was able to cross off because of the injuries. That left one. _Name: Unknown (John Doe). Age: Unknown._ Well, that told him nothing, except for the fact that the boy was still unidentified. Now he _had_ to talk to him.

"What was that?" Luke asked. Well... demanded was more like it.

"Nothing... just... nothing..." Ben waved it aside, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He'd have to wait until Luke was asleep before he went off searching. It would only raise more questions.

It took two long hours for Luke to fall asleep again, with Ben doing his best to act normal. Even when it seemed that Luke was asleep, Ben waited a while to make sure his brother wasn't trying to trick him. Not that tricking would do any good. Luke wasn't going anywhere...

From there, Ben looked up the room that the teen was supposed to be in, and went to see the security guard he had talked to. He'd try the legal way first, and if that failed... well, he wasn't a spy for no reason.

The security guard knew exactly who to point Ben toward, more than willing to have possibly found a name to put down for the boy. The doctor taking care of the teen was a little more wary about just letting Ben in to see him.

_Thank God for badges_, Ben thought. He had had to wave his badge to get the doctor to let him in, and even then, the doctor had seemed slightly suspicious. Ben had explained as well as he could, using half-truths to cover his tracks. Really, he told the doctor nothing that he didn't already know.

If Ben were wrong about the identity of the boy, no one would ask too many questions, since he was involved with the government. If he was right though... a lot of things could easily go wrong. The wrong people could accidentally find out, and then the teen would really be in danger.

The teen was in less than perfect condition, clear enough from the paleness of his skin. He had had a rough time since his little running jaunt, thanks to a previously broken rib puncturing his lung. It didn't sound fun, but it did explain the breathlessness and eventual loss of consciousness.

Bruises, cuts, and scrapes seemed to cover him, even more completely than Luke's injuries. Whatever had happened, it looked like he had been lucky to get off as good as he had. The neon green brace on his arm seemed to stand out in contrast to all the white surrounding him, making Ben almost wince in sympathy. The boy was not going to be very happy when he woke up.

The restraints around the boy's arms and ankles were obvious as well, a new addition since his run. The doctor didn't want him getting up without permission again. The run had apparently damaged more than just his lung, though the doctor hadn't been clear as to what. The sedative he had been receiving, since coming in more than a week earlier, had worn off early the day before, a sign that he was coming out of the semi-coma he had been in since then.

Ben sat down in a chair beside the bed, wondering just why he was letting his curiosity get the better of him. It was impossible, and he was just getting his hopes up for nothing. His shrink would eventually find out, psychoanalyze him, and eventually deem him unfit for duty. Everything was going to go down the drain.

Looking at the sleeping teenager though... he couldn't help but see the similarities. The way the boy held himself, even when he was sleeping, was the same wary way that Ben had seen on almost every spy he had met.

That was just wishful thinking though.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Whew. Monster of a chapter ^_^ Very, very, very pleased with the length. Over 6000 words, minus the authors note! And I really liked writing from Ben's POV. It's really different. Poor Luke though, he's really beat up... Not too much of Alex though, but there'll be more next chapter!  
><strong>

**Wow... so many of you guessed Ben, as well as pretty much every other character :D Virtual cookies to you all! *throws handfuls of cookies* Unfortunately, no, we won't be seeing Rosen or Kleczka for a while. Sadness. Oh well.**

**Life calls me!**

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	9. Conversation

**Disclaimer:** _If I was really Anthony Horowitz, do you think I would be posting stories here? When I could be getting paid for it? It's called _fan_fiction for a reason..._

_**Previously...**_

_Ben sat down in a chair beside the bed, wondering just why he was letting his curiosity get the better of him. It was impossible, and he was just getting his hopes up for nothing. His shrink would eventually find out, psychoanalyze him, and eventually deem him unfit for duty. Everything was going to go down the drain._

_Looking at the sleeping teenager though... he couldn't help but see the similarities. The way the boy held himself, even when he was sleeping, was the same wary way that Ben had seen on almost every spy he had met._

_That was just wishful thinking though._

**CHAPTER 9: Conversation**

* * *

><p>Thinking was not among the list of options at that point in time. Instead, Alex felt like he was trying to find his way through some very thick soup-like substance. Wandering through everything and nothing at the same time. He tried to push the feeling away, but whatever it was seemed determined to cling to his skin.<p>

Not that he was actually getting anywhere, but at least he felt like he was doing something useful.

Like puzzle pieces slowly clicking into place, his awareness and coherent thoughts started to come back to him. He was so tired at the moment that moving didn't seem like an option, even though one part of his brain was telling him he still needed to escape. That he wasn't truly safe where he was. For the moment though, he stayed as still as possible.

Breathing wasn't impossible anymore, and it didn't hurt near as much as it had the last time he was awake. Something told him that the majority of the grogginess and soup feeling came from the painkillers.

_Paink__illers_... that meant he was somewhere where there were painkillers. Perhaps he was still in the hospital. Of course, the hospital might not be safe, as almost _anyone_ could have free access to him. Someone could give him sedatives and he wouldn't even know it. Or something else that was equally as horrible. He repressed a shudder, knowing that it would just hurt.

It had _seemed_ like a normal hospital though. Maybe he was safe for the time being. If it weren't for the fact that he was sure he was forgetting something, he would have relaxed. There was something important though. Something he had seen...

He wracked his memory, trying to find the missing puzzle piece, but it seemed that a whole section of his memory wasn't cooperating with him. Alex got the fuzzy impression that something had happened, something other than just finding it impossible to breathe, but what, he couldn't remember.

Alex tried to shift positions, so he wasn't putting so much strain on the side with the broken ribs, but a tug on his wrist stopped him. There was... _something_ firmly wrapped around his wrist. It wasn't letting him go, and it was tight. There was no slack in it.

Ignoring the flare of pain that resulted from the jerky movement, he tugged on his arm, hoping to break the grip. It wasn't letting him free. An indescribable panic welled up inside him, and he pulled even more urgently on whatever it was holding him back. He just wanted to move! Twisting and turning, he found out all too quickly that it wasn't just the one arm held tight. He was restrained on all sides, all limbs.

He felt his heart to thud in his chest, as the situation set into his mind. Wherever he was—maybe he wasn't even in the _hospital_ anymore—he was trapped. Escape was impossible. The restraints held him down so securely that he knew that even if he had been healthy he wouldn't be able to get out. Alex kept twisting and turning, hoping for some kind of weakness to appear, but there was nothing.

_Someone had caught him._ He remembered that now. Someone had caught him out in the hall. He knew he was still missing something else... Was SCORPIA holding him captive somewhere? Had they really gotten a hold of him, after his few minutes of freedom? Were they just lying in wait for him to make his move?

His breathing started to come in short, quick gasps, as he tossed and turned. He knew he was just making it worse, by continuing to struggle, but he wasn't about to give up. He ignored the flares of pain that each movement brought, and instead focused all his energy and strength into just freeing his _one_ hand.

After what felt like hours of useless struggling—_had no one noticed yet?_—Alex gave up. His body was shaking from the energy he had used up, replaced with exhaustion. He was amazed that no one had come in on him. That no one had drugged him again. It seemed that whoever had him, had other plans.

He wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep again, but the restraints made it impossible. Anyone could come into the room and do _anything_. He wouldn't be able to stop them. _H__elpless._ His breathing hitched as he remembered Conrad and the conveyer belt. How close he had come to being crushed little bit by bit, all because he hadn't been able to move. Hadn't been able to protect himself in any way. The only reason Conrad hadn't just let him go through the crusher, was Sarov. Even then, it had been close.

Alex pulled on the restraint again, willing to do just about anything if it meant escape. Even if it meant dislocating his wrist. Something told him that even that wouldn't free him, and if anything, it would just make things significantly worse. One arm was already in a brace of some sort, he didn't need to injure the other, if he wanted to escape.

He was tired of the situations he got into, purposefully or not. He had been trying his hardest to stay away from everything like that, and it seemed that he had succeeded in getting caught up in something dangerous.

"You're just making it worse."

Alex froze. The voice came from beside him, a man's voice that sounded vaguely familiar. He didn't care about that though. What he cared about, was the fact that the man had been in the room the entire time, and Alex hadn't noticed. He had been sure that the room was empty, though he had never checked with his own eyes. The odd thing was, the man hadn't made any move to stop Alex from struggling.

"I think cooperating with the nurses normally means more comfort on your part."

The voice was so frustratingly familiar, but Alex couldn't put the voice to a face. He was almost afraid of what recognizing the voice meant. It meant it was someone he had met before. Someone who probably knew, without a doubt, that he was Alex Rider.

"They really don't want to restrain you, you know. The thing is, you're a danger to yourself and others right now."

Alex bristled at the words. He hadn't hurt _anyone_. All he had done was try to escape, and someone had caught him. He had been careful not to hurt anyone in the halls. Extremely careful. He had just wanted out. Hurting civilians hadn't been part of the plan at all.

"Every time you struggle like that, you're risking hurting yourself again. I can't imagine that you'd particularly _want_ a repeat of yesterday."

Alex almost frowned. As much as it didn't fit the situation, the man wasn't talking normal '_bad guy_' talk. He almost sounded like he cared, in some twisted sort of way. Alex turned his head toward the voice, still trying to place it. He opened his eyes, squinting at the lights for a moment, before the man beside him came into focus. The man stared back at him, a crease of worry between his eyebrows.

_No, no, no!_ This was bad. Very, very, bad. Almost as bad as SCORPIA. _They_ had found him again. "_Ben_." Recognition lit in the man's eyes as Alex uttered his name, and Alex looked away hurriedly. He pulled on the restraints again, determined to get away before _they_ could come again. Steal his life away for nth time. "No... no... no... Go away. _Go away!_"

"Calm down." The man, _Ben_, said. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up, and then the nurse will have to sedate you again. If they do that, I can guarantee that you won't be getting out of those restraints any time soon. You need to cooperate, and you might find yourself with a little freedom again."

Alex choked back his terror of being sedated again. "Don't... _please_..." At least when he was awake, he had some sort of chance at escaping again. Even though it was Ben—a man he had trusted at one point in time in his life—he couldn't risk _them_ finding him. If they hadn't already.

_Now_ he remembered that Ben was the man that had caught him in the hall. While he wasn't sure _why_ Ben had been there, Alex knew that he was on thin ice. MI6 could know his whereabouts already and be waiting in the background to snatch him up again.

"Alex?" Ben asked, slowly.

Alex pulled away, putting as much space between him and Ben as possible. It had been_ months_ since someone had called him _Al__ex_. "No, no, no. Don't." He dug his nails into his palms as hard as possible, trying to push down on the emotions that a simple worded reminder had brought. "_He's dead_."

There was something about the way that Ben looked at him. An uncertainty he had in his face, telling Alex that _they_ didn't know yet. That he still had some sort of chance to escape. Be free.

Ben leaned onto his arms, looking Alex directly in the eyes. There was a flicker of unease in his eyes. "Why don't you tell me why you're so determined to get out of here. Maybe I can help."

Alex stared back at his unrelenting gaze, before looking away. _Could_ he trust Ben? Or would Ben just go and tell MI6 that he wasn't as dead as he was supposed to be, and then let them do what they wanted? Alex knew that if MI6 got a hold of him while he was still _dead_, there wouldn't be any escape—short of real death. He knew _they_ wouldn't believe a fake death again, no matter how convincing it was. Unless... well... there was always the possibility that Mrs. Jones really _was_ done using him, but it seemed too good to hope for. He couldn't trust her.

He eyed Ben speculatively. There seemed to be no other options, aside from trusting Ben... "I'm not going back. Don't want _them_ finding me." The words came out slightly mumbled, as fatigue and pain started to catch up with him again. The slight adrenaline rush he had had was disappearing, making him want nothing more than to fall back asleep. It was possible that the painkillers were also starting to work again, muddying his thoughts. "Don't want to be used." He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at Ben.

He wanted nothing more than to be out, away from it all. He had had almost four blissful months, before being forcefully dragged back into the midst of everything. He hadn't escaped the city soon enough.

"Everyone thinks you're dead." Ben said slowly. "A lot of people cared that you died."

"Only because they can't use me anymore." Alex said, bitterly. "They don't care about _me_."

"Alex..."

His eyes snapped open, and he glared at Ben. "_Don't_ call me that."

Ben ignored him. "What about that family you left behind? Your friends? Everyone thinks you died almost four months ago. Are you running from something... someone...? Is that why you left?"

Alex clenched his jaw. "I'm not going back."

"If you're in danger, there are plenty of people at _the bank_ that would be thrilled to find out that you're alive. They can help you."

_They didn't know yet_. He still had a chance. MI6 didn't know he was alive. Yet. Ben could always tell them as soon as he was out of sight though. "Don't make me go back. Please, don't make me. _Please, Ben._"

Ben sighed. "I won't make you, but..."

"_They_ don't know. They can't!" The moment they knew, Alex was going to find it impossible to escape again. "Don't tell them. Please." He knew he was pleading, but it was his only chance. Even if it meant that he had to trust Ben for the moment, he didn't want MI6 finding him. He had no other choice.

"They don't know. And... I won't tell, unless I absolutely have to. Promise."

For some reason, Alex felt like he could trust Ben. Trust him not to give him away. "If... they don't know, why are you here?"

Ben seemed to smirk. "Following up on a hunch. You seemed a little too familiar yesterday when you tried to escape. Besides, _you_ recognized _me_. There was no way I was going to let it go that easily."

Alex nodded slightly, remembering the shock he had felt to see Ben the first time. Now that the memories were finally starting to line up, things were starting to make a little more sense. He had never been in any danger from SCORPIA. At least, not since he had been in the hospital.

As long as Ben never said anything to MI6, he'd be free again, and he'd be able to disappear into the background once more. It would mean leaving the country, but surely, it was for the better. For now though... he needed to get out of the hospital without them looking too far into his background. Unless he got a little help... "I'm not _Alex_."

"Oh?" Ben seemed to understand immediately. "Who are you then?"

"Alec Pierre. From Paris." He slipped into his accent again, determined not to let it fall again. If someone had come in, they could have seen through his whole charade. "The... doctor will want to know." He let his eyes close again, fighting off the tiredness.

"Alec, huh? Yeah, they'll want to know. You have anything to prove your identity?"

"There's ID in my flat. I think..." He added as an afterthought. He had no idea how long he had been in the hospital. For all he knew, it could have been anything from a few days, to a few weeks. If it had been more than a week, the rent on his flat might be due already. Or late already. It was entirely possible that his flat wasn't _his flat_ anymore.

Ben's hand wrapped around Alex's uninjured arm. "You know, I think as long as you're relaxed like this, they'll let you out of those restraints. They just don't want you getting up and accidentally hurting yourself again." The chair creaked slightly as Ben stood up, and the touch started to pull away.

Alex grabbed on as best as he could, halting the movement. It was awkward, but he managed. After all, just telling the doctor's his name wasn't going to get him anywhere. The name might exist in France's government database, but there wouldn't be anything more than that. They were bound to get suspicious, and no matter what trust he put in Ben, MI6 was bound to get onto his trail again. "Find the ID."

"I would... except for the fact that I don't know where your flat it."

Alex shrugged as best as he could. "It's in Brockley."

"Brockley?" His voice was incredulous. "You realize that's on the other side of town, right?"

"Err... _where_ are we?"

"Hammersmith."

Alex suppressed a groan. He knew _exactly_ where Hammersmith was. It was only a few minutes away from his hometown of Chelsea. He wasn't _too_ surprised that he was a long way from his flat. Especially not after the hours he had spent running from Rosen, and then when Muscles had taken him in the car. They had been heading toward the airport. It was only that small fact that had made it possible for him to get away completely. Get away without the police actively chasing him for _murder_.

"Alex?"

He tried not to shudder as he thought of what had happened. The fight. The gun. The shot. Even if it had been in self-defense... Alex couldn't make himself feel any better about it.

"_Alec_? You okay?"

It took him a moment to hear the note of concern in Ben's voice, reminding Alex that he didn't have time to dwell on what had happened. "Yeah... fine." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to refocus his thoughts. Even though he felt like he hadn't been awake very long, he was definitely running out of energy. "Just... just find my ID."

"Then you need to tell me where your flat is. _And_ if you have any history, aside from the basics."

Alex would have glared at him, but he was too tired. As it was, he mumbled out the address of his flat, having to repeat it three times before Ben heard it right. "You'll have to pick the lock." He didn't feel like explaining about the extra key, not when thinking was becoming a struggle again. "And I've got no... medical history."

"Figures." Ben sounded like he was suppressing a grin. "Just out of curiosity, how old is _Alec_?"

Alex smiled slightly. "Eighteen."

"Of course." Ben gripped his hand in a reassuring gesture, before turning to head out the door.

"Thank you, Ben." Alex mumbled, before finally drifting off to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There. I think that's not a cliffie... This chapter has gone through about eight or nine edits over the past week or so, and I'm still kinda meh about it. It just... didn't seem quite right. Meh. Whatever.**

**Thanks for the reviews everyone! I enjoy reading each and every one of them.**

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	10. Secret from the Government

**Disclaimer:**_ I hereby bequeath my rights to Alex Rider, to... Oops, can't do that, since I don't own any rights in the first place. Dagnabbit.**  
><strong>_

**_Previously..._**

_"You'll have to pick the lock." Alex didn't feel like explaining about the extra key, not when thinking was becoming a struggle again. "And I've got no... medical history."_

_"Figures." Ben sounded like he was suppressing a grin. "Just out of curiosity, how old is Alec?"_

_Alex smiled slightly. "Eighteen."_

_"Of course." Ben gripped his hand in a reassuring gesture, before turning to head out the door._

_"Thank you, Ben." Alex mumbled, before finally drifting off to sleep._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 10: Secret from the Government<br>**

Ben was still in shock when he left Alex's room. He hadn't shown it, of course, but on the inside, he was shocked to the core. Alex, who everyone at MI6 thought was dead, had been living on his own—_right under their noses—_ever since the bombing. He was alive, mostly well, and more than a little annoyed by the fact he was in the hospital...

There was also the small fact that he was acting like someone was after him. Just the mention of MI6 had spooked him, enough for him to _plead_ with Ben not to give him up. He was definitely running from something. Whether that something was real, or a figment of his paranoid imagination, remained to be seen. For the moment, Ben would have to keep an eye on the kid. Anything could happen.

And, he was supposedly _e__ightee__n_? Ben found it impossible to believe that Alex was really eighteen. He assumed that the fake ID bumped up Alex's age, at least by a year—so he could get a job _legally_—but he didn't know how old the kid really was. Even _if_ he was eighteen, Ben hated to think how young Alex would have been when MI6 got a hold of him.

The age did make things with the hospital more complicated. Namely, Alex was an _adult_ for all intents and purposes. The moment the doctors had any kind of information on him, Ben would be removed from the chain of command. Unless Alex made an exception. At the moment, Ben wasn't putting out too much hope for that. Of course, he could always force his way in, use his governmental powers... but he feared that Alex _definitely_ wouldn't trust him after that. He'd have to worry about it later.

Mere moments after Ben left the room, the doctor was waiting to speak with him. "Is he who you thought he might be?"

"Yeah..." Ben ran his hand through his hair, in a nervous gesture, stalling for time. _What_ could he tell the doctor? "His name's... _Alec Pierre_. I... really can't tell you much more than that right now."

The doctor relaxed just slightly. Maybe having a name would do all the work for the moment. "That's excellent news. He was calmer after seeing a familiar face, am I right?"

Ben nodded slowly. Of course, that hadn't been until Alex actually _opened_ his eyes. "It took a while, but yeah. I don't think he'll try to get away again, he was just really confused."

"With injuries like his, confusion is often present. It's nothing we haven't seen before."

"I'll be back in the morning with some more information on him. I just... uh... have to clear some things first." Ben hoped it would be enough to satisfy the doctor's curiosity for the moment, at least until he had some firm facts. Such as _Alec Pierre's_ identifying information. He didn't want to accidentally give out some kind of information that he would just have to contradict later on.

Thankfully, the promise of coming back did the trick, and Ben was able to go back to Luke's room unimpeded. His mind turned over what he had seen of Alex, trying to make it fit with what little he knew of the teen from before. _Not much_. It seemed that just one conversation with Alex wasn't going to answer all of his questions...

* * *

><p>Luke was asleep when Ben reached the room, so Ben settled in, trying to make it looked like he had been there the entire time, or at least, most of the time. He knew it was too much to hope that Luke hadn't noticed, as there was no doubt that over the past three hours Luke had woken up at least once.<p>

Ben pulled out his phone, and started to download the information that the hospital had on Alex. He would get around to transferring it to his book reader later. For now, he needed to know just _what_ was going on with Alex, and he couldn't wait for the hospital to officially release the information. He wasn't planning to inform MI6 about Alex's appearance. Not yet at least...

"Where'd you go?" Luke asked, almost the moment he was fully awake. "You left your jacket behind, so don't tell me you went out. I waited for an hour—_an hour_, Ben—and you still didn't come back. What on earth did you find here that was so interesting?"

Ben raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. "I was just wandering the hospital. You know I can't stand to sit in once place for so long."

"Uh huh." Clearly, he didn't believe Ben. "Tell that to Mum and see if she believes you anymore than I do. You had something else on your mind all morning."

"I might have." Ben leaned closer, smirking slightly. "I can also find better things to do, like _not_ sitting with daredevil younger brothers in the hospital."

Luke sighed, glared at the wall for a moment, before focusing a new-found interest on Ben's phone. "So... got anything interesting on there? Government secrets... incriminating pictures... numbers for ex's?"

* * *

><p>For not the first time, Ben turned over the conundrum of Alex. He had come to the conclusion that there had to be something real and tangible that Alex was afraid of. And it wasn't a figment of his paranoia. He was afraid of something, <em>someone<em> that was after him. Someone from his past. It definitely wasn't MI6, since they thought he was dead and Mrs. Jones had refused to use him after the incident in Cairo. While Ben didn't know what all had happened in Cairo, it was enough for Blunt to forcefully retire, and for Alex to leave the country—for what should have been—permanently.

For now, Ben would keep Alex's secret, and protect him to the best of his ability. It was hard to do that when he wasn't sure _what_ he was protecting Alex from. An old enemy, one that had found Alex's new identity? Or was it something small, like a friend he had seen somewhere, and the reaction had been overemphasized due to the painkillers and injuries?

It was impossible to tell without more information, and Ben didn't see Alex talking to him freely. At least, not for a while yet. He had to show himself worthy of the trust. And if that meant keeping Alex's secret... then so be it.

After leaving the hospital, Ben headed across town to Alex's flat in Brockley. It was a modern looking building, though a few of the buildings in the surrounding area looked somewhat rundown. He wondered if Alex had chosen the building because there were plenty of hiding places nearby, plenty of buildings to escape into. It would be easy to lose a tail in the streets too. While the streets weren't extremely busy just after rush hour, Ben was sure that there were times that the streets were crowded with both pedestrians and cars.

He hiked up the stairs to the second level, taking note of each door that he passed. _24_. That was Alex's flat. There was a note pinned to the door, and Ben took it down, skimming over it. A reminder that rent was due at the end of the next week. Just a friendly reminder, but Ben knew that Alex wouldn't be back by the end of the week. It seemed doubtful that he'd be back in even two weeks.

He grumbled at Alex for not having a spare key somewhere—or if he did, he had just been too out of it to remember. Ben's lock picking skills were rather underdeveloped and unused. Since he had only had a few lessons on the subject, it took a number of minutes to pick the lock. He kept thinking that some well-meaning neighbor would come by and see him, and call the police for breaking and entering. Thankfully, no one came by.

Finally, the door came open, and Ben slipped inside. He turned on the light in the small hall, before shutting the door behind him. He smirked, seeing the multiple locks and chains that had been installed on the inside. It would have looked paranoid to anyone else, but Ben could almost sympathize with the teen. He really did have people out to get him.

A glance around the rooms leading off from the hall proved that he couldn't be _truly_ paranoid. The small flat was neat and tidy. Little reminders were stuck to the mini-fridge—some kind of shift reminders for a pub, telephone numbers for what looked like different carryout places, and other random musings. A clean mug was sitting next to the sink, as well as a nearly full container of tealeaves.

If the teen had truly been paranoid, there would be no _homey_ touches to the small flat. No reminders of a normal life whatsoever. No links that anyone getting in could use against him. No, Alex wasn't completely paranoid, he was just _cautious_.

If Ben didn't know better though, he would have thought the flat belonged to some organized bachelor, maybe a successful office worker. Not to a teen that had only been living on his own for a few months—no matter his real age.

It was hard to correlate the two different images. Ben doubted that very many teens Alex's age could survive on their own with the same level of responsibility and maturity. With no outside help. Alex seemed to have nothing, except for his ability to blend seamlessly into a life that wasn't his own.

The bedroom was in almost the same pristine condition as the kitchen was. The flat had the barest of essentials, and Ben got the impression that Alex wasn't around for much more than eating and sleeping. There was no television or telephone in sight. No computer or clock either. In fact, the only electronic device in the flat was the iPod sitting innocently on the stand next to the bed. There was a wallet there as well, further giving the impression that Alex didn't expect anyone to break into his flat while he was away. Most likely, he suspected anyone breaking into his flat would already know enough about him that it wouldn't matter.

Ben flipped open the wallet, hoping it would have what he was looking for. He was surprised to find that Alex wasn't running low on cash. There was more than enough in the wallet, to survive for at least a week, if not longer. He pulled the ID out—what he was really after—and studied the photo. _Alec Leonel Pierre_, from France, and according to the ID almost halfway to nineteen. He was surprised that Alex had pulled off being eighteen, but obviously, it had worked. Or he had employers that just didn't really care.

Ben examined it, and knew that a professional had made the ID. This was no amateur's job. The quality was remarkable, right down to the patterns in the background. While he wasn't experienced enough to know the watermarks for each country's ID cards, it looked official enough for him. He had a feeling that if he looked on the French government's database, there would be a reliable history for the name as well.

He put the wallet and iPod into his pocket, figuring that at one point or another, Alex might enjoy something to entertain himself with. Maybe not for a few days though... Ben took a cursory glance through the rest of Alex's things in the room. While the clothes weren't threadbare, they definitely weren't new, and a few of the shirts had stains, presumably, from whatever his job was. If the note on the fridge was anything to go by, he had worked at a bar on the other side of town. He seemed to do a lot of traveling, and since he had no license, that meant lots of walking or public transport. Judging from Alex's accident, that meant _lots_ of walking.

The bed wasn't made perfectly, giving the impression that the last time Alex had been in, he had to leave in a hurry. Late to work, possibly? It certainly gave the impression that someone actually lived in the flat, and that everything wasn't just for show.

A glance in the bathroom explained the differences in appearance that Ben saw in Alex. There was a box of black hair dye, sitting prominently on the corner of the sink. The blonde hair that Ben remembered seeing on Alex had to be natural, with the black dyed in. As short as his hair was, he probably had to touch it up every few weeks to keep the roots from showing through...

Ben checked the drawers, making sure there wasn't anything important in them, and found a spare pair of glasses, almost matching the ones in the ID photo. A glance through them told Ben that they were fake, with just glass as the lenses. No prescription. Alex probably would want them back, since they seemed to be a major part of his disguise.

There was money at the bottom of another drawer, taped to the bottom, but covered with what almost seemed like a false bottom. Obviously, Alex didn't trust banks, but it seemed like he was tempting fate to just leave the money lying around. Then again... maybe it was the safest place Alex had.

Ben closed the drawers up, and headed back to the main entry area. The flat told two different stories. One, of a person that was completely capable of living on their own, with plenty of money to provide for anything and prepared for the worst that life could throw at them. Another, of a lonely teen that was in danger constantly, and had to hide behind an identity that wasn't his. Of one that couldn't leave the building without having to wonder when—not _if_—someone was going to come after him. Constant edge.

Ben let out a long sigh as he locked the door behind himself. He needed to have a long talk with Alex about all this. It just wasn't right for a kid his age to live on his own, under so much pressure. It couldn't be healthy.

* * *

><p>Ben walked back into the hospital the next morning fully prepared and ready to face the day. He had gone in earlier in the morning, hoping to catch Alex before going to see Luke. After having read—and deciphered—the entire doctor's report on Alex's injuries, he was slightly surprised that the kid was still breathing after his little jaunt. Or walking.<p>

Which he wouldn't be doing any of for a while if Ben had translated things right.

Ben headed up to the second floor, intent on finding the doctor again. He circled around so he didn't even get close to Luke's room, afraid that a nurse, somehow, might have managed to get him out of his room for a walk. The last thing he needed was for Luke to find out about Alex.

It only took flashing his badge again to get a response from the nurse at the station, and within a few minutes, Ben found himself sitting down in an office-like room to talk with the doctor about Alex. Or rather, _Alec_.

"I've never heard of a government agent taking such an interest in a patient before." The doctor said, shuffling through the few papers that Ben had managed to scrounge together. There were no medical records, and Ben knew he was going to have to tackle that hurdle when he came to it, but it gave basic information that was already in the French government's system. "He's not involved in anything criminal, is he?"

Ben pulled up a smile, attempting to put the doctor at ease. "Oh, no. Not at all." _Well, it depends on how you look at it..._ "He's the nephew of a deceased colleague that disappeared a few months ago, just after he turned eighteen. The search was called off, but a number of us have still been holding out hope that he'd show up again. It was merely by chance I found him here..." He had written out at least ten different cover stories, until settling on one that could even remotely be true.

"And this interested the government?"

Ben mentally cursed all curious doctors. Every question meant more lies. "Alec lived with his uncle, up until he died, and was on the receiving end of a few death threats—due to the position his uncle held. Since he's a French citizen, the government had a particular interest in him. It would look bad if anything happened while he was on British soil. Disappearing months ago was bad enough."

The doctor looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but it seemed even _he_ knew the definition of privacy. "Well... I can see that Alec certainly had an interesting few months. I wish I could tell you more of his condition, but he _is_ of age." The doctor sighed slightly. "He needs to give permission before I can legally tell you anything. Unless you wish to overrule that..."

Ben shook his head, trying to put the thought out of his mind that he already knew _all_ about what had happened. The thing was... Alex needed to choose. He couldn't force Alex to accept his help, not without taking away the option of choice altogether. "No. The choice is his. I'm sure he'll decide what's best." Ben knew all too well of the number of times the option of choice had been taken away from Alex. That his life had been chosen for him. Ben wasn't about to join the list of people that took choice away. He wanted Alex to trust him, even if it meant going out on a limb in the beginning.

It was all a matter of trust.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Chapter ten. Gosh, would you believe it, the further I get into this story, the more clear the plot becomes, but the harder it is to write? It's _very_ annoying. Maybe it's because I know exactly what I want to happen... and I just just can't get it to come out right. Hmm... dunno.**

**And look at that. I'm at 99 reviews! That means I'll hit 100 soon! I was tempted to wait for that 100th review, but then I decided that that would be mean :D It annoys me when authors do that, so I'll just celebrate one review early! Ahem. You guys are amazing, and I honestly never expected to get this many reviews. When I started out, a measly 30 reviews by the end of the story would have sufficed. *cough* We've passed that by a lot, and it's been just over a month since I started! Thank you so much, because each review keeps me inspired to keep writing, and—believe it or not—update faster. So keep those reviews coming in!  
><strong>

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	11. The Book

**Disclaimer:** _The sun is shining? True. There is no snow? Sadly, true. The birds are singing? True. I own Alex Rider? FALSE *sadness*_**  
><strong>

**_Previously..._**

_Ben knew all too well of the number of times the option of choice had been taken away from Alex. That his life had been chosen for him. Ben wasn't about to join the list of people that took choice away. He wanted Alex to trust him, even if it meant going out on a limb in the beginning._

_It was all a matter of trust._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 11 The Book:<strong>

Even though he had talked to Ben, and reassured himself that SCORPIA wasn't in the hospital, Alex still found it difficult to relax. Especially since the restraints were still there. It was all he could do to keep from trying to fight against them when he woke up again. A few calming breaths took care of that... for the most part.

A nurse came in to check on him not long after he woke up, with a security guard trailing along behind. Apparently, they weren't taking any chances with him yet. Alex was content to lie there patiently, while the nurse did her checks. She asked him a few routine sounding questions, and he answered with as little information as possible. He wasn't sure if he was going to see Ben again, but he had a feeling that he'd know _exactly_ when his new information came in. For now, he just had to make sure he didn't accidentally contradict it.

The thought of Ben prowling around his flat wasn't exactly comforting, but it wasn't like he had anything to hide. Just the thought of someone else being in there was strange, especially since he wasn't there himself. He wasn't quite sure _what_ had inspired him to trust Ben, but he hoped that it had been a good decision.

In the meantime, he was content to doze off and on throughout the night. Even hours after he had struggled against the restraints, he still felt the after effects. His head was still pounding, and despite the fact that he _knew_ there were plenty of painkillers working their way through his system, the needle-like pains in his side hadn't gone away at all.

Even if he had wanted to attempt to escape again, he couldn't. Before, it had been the adrenaline rush that had pushed him on. There was nothing now, nothing to mask the pain. So, in a way he was glad that he really had nothing to worry about. He was safe for the moment.

He was in a half-awake stage when he heard someone come into his room. He had already seen the doctor once that morning, having answered the basic questions, proving that his short-term memory hadn't been affected by whatever had happened in the accident. He suspected that it was one of the nurses, as they had been coming back at extremely regular intervals to check on him.

He tensed slightly, hearing heavy footsteps come across the tile floor. His heart sped up. It could be anyone. A kidnapper... SCORPIA... He blinked his eyes a few times, before the friendly doctor loomed into view above him.

"Good morning again, Alec." The doctor said.

Alex made a show of waking up, but made sure not to struggle against the restraints. Maybe the doctor was going to finally let him free.

"How're you feeling?"

Alex resisted the urge to glare at the doctor—he had just asked the same questions a few hours earlier. "Fine. Tired." He didn't mention the random pains that were springing up, as he was awake longer. Thankfully, the worst was confined to his head, ribs, and knee.

"That's good." The doctor started his standard checks and tests, and Alex had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He hadn't thought it would be happening so often, but then, it also seemed like the doctor just wanted to _talk_ to him. A confusing thought.

Right up until Ben's name came up. Then everything made sense. Since he, Alex, was eighteen, he was in charge of his own healthcare, which included who was privy to the information. It seemed that the doctor was in the midst of confirming that he was truly mentally competent. In any other situation, Alex might have been offended that there was a doubt in the first place, but then, he did understand where the caution came from. He _had_ been trying to escape only a few short hours earlier.

Thankfully, whatever the doctor saw, reassured him, and Alex soon found himself being released from the restraints. The doctor of course told him that he was not to get up for any reason whatsoever. It could be permanently damaging to his health, if he hadn't already seriously damaged it already. _That_ was a sobering thought.

Alex flexed his free wrist a few times, enjoying the freedom again. The doctor left for a few minutes, before coming back with another person and some paperwork. Alex carefully read over the entirety of it, making sure that there were no sneaky loopholes in it. While he doubted that Ben had gone back on his word, he couldn't help but be cautious. His caution could be the only thing to save him.

Since there were no warning bells going off in his head, he gave permission for Ben to be his _medical contact_. It was only temporary, after all. As long as Ben kept his word...

By the time the doctor left, Alex was starting to feel completely worn out again. His head was pounding something fierce, and it was far more comfortable to lie in the bed with his eyes closed. He hated the sickly tired feeling, but he couldn't get rid of it. As much as he wanted to see Ben again—if Ben came by, that is—he knew there was no way he was staying awake any longer.

* * *

><p>Alex slept off and on for the rest of the day, marveling over the fact that he could actually move around a little again. He still nearly freaked out every time he woke up, ready for something to jump out at him, but each time it got easier and easier to calm down. The freedom from the restraints also meant that he was disturbed less often, making the sleep that he actually got, more restful. In the span of a day, things were really starting to look up.<p>

Of course, when Ben seemed to randomly show up in the room, Alex was slightly surprised. Just _slightly_.

"Well, you're certainly looking better."

Alex looked up sharply, catching Ben's eye. He couldn't stop the smile that came from seeing someone familiar again.

"Glad to be free again?" Ben asked.

"Definitely." Alex slipped into his French accent, almost more comfortable with it than using his normal voice. "I can move."

Ben put a hand into his pocket, and pulled out something familiar looking. "Thought you might like having these again, seeing how they're quite prominent on your ID picture. Nice job, by the way, quite realistic. I would ask where you got it, but I doubt you'd tell me."

Alex rolled his eyes, before taking the glasses from Ben. He was glad that he had thought to buy an extra set on one of his days off. He doubted that his original pair had survived the accident. Slipping the glasses on, he once again felt safe behind his alias.

"I came by earlier, but you were dead asleep by the time I made it in." Ben smirked. "Your doctor is a very persistent fellow. He seems to think that I should know where to find your medical records, and that it should be pretty long, since you have so many scars."

Alex groaned. "He expects answers? Why can't doctors just go with what they know already?"

Ben laughed. "Well... I expect he wants to make sure you don't have any sort of complications. You already had some sort of allergic reaction to something when they brought you in, so I suspect they don't want a repeat of that."

"But I'm not allergic to anything." At least... not that he knew of.

"Well, you are now."

"Great." He stared at the door for a few moments, thinking of imaginative ways to get the doctor to bug off. Unfortunately, none of them would work, since he really did need the doctor helping him. "Well, I don't have any records. So what can we do?"

Ben glanced toward the door, before scooting his chair closer to the bed, looking decidedly sneaky. "You can always do what you did with your ID. Shouldn't be _too_ hard."

Alex stared at him. "Are you suggesting... that we _forge_ medical paperwork? You, a government operative?" He couldn't hold back a snort. "What kind of cover story did you give them, anyway?"

"Nephew of deceased colleague, disappeared just after turning eighteen, previously on the receiving end of death threats due to your uncle's position, et cetera, et cetera." He recited it off, before shrugging. "I had to show my badge just to get in to see you yesterday, so I had to push the story a bit. If anyone _does_ notice that your paperwork isn't exactly _authentic_, I doubt that they'll ask any questions once they see a badge somewhere."

Alex nodded slowly, starting to wonder if Ben finding him wasn't so completely horrible after all. It was probably one of the best things that had happened in the past few days. No, make that the past _month_. There were so many different angles that he hadn't thought of, different problems that he hadn't been prepared for, but now... the options were easier. "You can do that? You _would_ do that?"

Ben sent him a look. "I might as well help out. Honestly, I think recreating the medical jargon will be the hardest part. It'll give me something to do tonight."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "So just _what_ did you want to explain away?" He wasn't sure he wanted Ben to know about his scars. _He_ didn't particularly want to remember how he got them in the first place either.

"I was reading through the report on your condition... just to clear something up, you were hit by a car, right?"

Alex nodded slowly.

"But you were in some sort of fight before that weren't you? I mean, one of the notes on the file said that some of the bruises _shouldn't_ have come from the car. They were older than the ones that came from the car. _And_ you had already screwed up your knee, since there were no broken bones or more severe damage."

Alex shuddered, trying not to think about it. "Yeah. I... I was heading home when I got hit. It was a bad night."

"You going to tell me what really happened? Or am I just going to have to wait in suspense?"

"I _really_ don't want to talk about it." _Or think about it_.

Ben sighed, before pulling out one of thickest books Alex had ever seen. The title looked rather bland and boring, but Alex was willing to bet all his money that it was a gadget from Smithers.

Ben noticed the look, and grinned. "Yep, Smithers' work. The man is a genius. It works like a digital reader, just disguised as a regular book. The pages are ultrathin screens, so when I pull up a document, it looks like I'm actually reading the book. It can switch between the regular book page and the current item I'm reading in .06 seconds. At least, according to Smithers it can. I've never actually timed it."

He thumbed through a few pages, stopping about ten pages in from the front. "This page is the menu screen. The start of chapter one, according to this book. From there, I can open almost any report from the bank—as long as it's within my security clearance. The start of chapter two is where I can edit reports, make notes, and even write ones of my own. I haven't had a chance to use that feature though. The third chapter was an added bonus from Smithers. Anything I open, or write down there, can only be accessed by my own security code, no matter how high of a clearance someone has. Smithers could probably break it if he had to, but I don't see him doing that. We can make our notes there, and you won't have to worry about the wrong people accidentally getting a hold of it."

Ben handed him the book, and Alex looked through it, wondering if it was as cleverly disguised as he thought it would be. As far as he could tell, each page felt like regular paper. There was no glossy sheen, like what he normally associated with screens, nor was there a difference in thickness of the pages.

He reached the end of the book, and handed it back to Ben. Ben immediately opened it up to the first chapter, and tapped in some sort of code on the page. Nothing that someone could do by accident either. It changed into an almost familiar looking menu screen, seeming to take inspiration from the current digital readers on the market.

Ben flicked through the next two chapters, stopping on the third—and extra secure—chapter. He tapped in another code, and the screen glowed briefly, before showing one document in the list. Even from the slight distance, Alex could read the title of the document. It was his medical file.

Alex raised an eyebrow at Ben. "Do I even _want_ to know how you got that?"

Ben grinned. "You gave permission for me to be your medical contact. Your doctor went over that in painstaking detail—"

"Much more than you'd like, I presume."

"Precisely. I tuned him out for the most part, swiped the written copy off the database, and read the abridge version at home."

Alex wasn't positive that Ben really did things in that order—hell, if it'd been him, he would have read first, asked questions later—but it didn't really matter anymore. He trusted Ben, to an extent, and it seemed Ben was doing what he could to keep that trust. "So what really happened when I got hit?"

"Didn't your doctor explain?"

Alex gritted his teeth. He _knew_ the doctor had, but then, he had also been floating on a cloud of painkillers for the past twenty-four hours or so. It was nigh on impossible to wade through what the doctor had really said, and what his—albeit, rather vivid—imagination had created "I was half asleep on painkillers, and my concentration was shot. So sue me if I don't listen the first time around."

Ben frowned slightly, before seeming to shrug it off. "I'm sure you've figured out most of what happened. The car hit you, and you survived with a whole lot less injuries than you should have had..." He quelled slightly under Alex's glare. "You tore a ligament in your knee—from before the accident—cracked a bone in your arm, broke six ribs—possibly also from before the accident—and had one nasty head injury. They figured that your violence when you woke up was attributed to that, and it probably was to an extent."

Alex grimaced. _Those_ memories were clear. The fight against the people that were just trying to help him. Even the pain came through in those memories... He wasn't sure if he could really attribute the violence to a head injury, or if it was just his own paranoia that brought the worst out.

"Hey, don't think about it." Ben said. "I read your report, remember? They brought in you in pretty bad condition, so there was plenty of reason for you to be disoriented. Still is." He sighed, before glancing back up at Alex with an amused frown. "Are you really avoiding what we need to do? 'Cause if you don't help me out here, I doubt I can explain away the scars very well."

Alex shook himself, dragging his mind away from the painful memories. "Did they write any down in the report?"

"Burn scars on your back, a few permanent looking scars on your chest—minus one appendicitis scar." Ben fixed him with a steady stare. "I presume that was a cover up for the lovely bullet wound above your heart." He didn't seem too surprised about it, but was—_possibly?_—annoyed about its existence. "I'm interested to hear your explanation for _that_ one, even if it isn't true."

Alex bit his lip, thinking about it for a moment. Clearly, saying that he was shot in the middle of London as an assassination attempt, wouldn't go over too well. For one thing, he didn't want to tell _Ben_ about it, and for another, an assassination attempt might make the hospital think twice about his security. While that might be all well and good, he needed as little contact with other people as possible.

"It was a gang shooting in France. I got caught in the middle of it. Fifteen months ago, roughly. Er..." He wracked his brains for any information that might make the _forgery_ easier. "Coma for a day, in the hospital for... I think it was eleven days." He shrugged. That was pretty much all he remembered. The next thing that had come after the shooting was the _fun_ with Ark Angel... _G__oing into space..._

Ben had already started to write things down in his _book_. "How long with follow up PT? Any meds that you can remember?"

Alex started fidgeting with the edge of the bed sheet. "Er... no PT—and I never used the meds."

Ben glanced up, incredulous. "Never? As in, you never had any, or just never used them?"

"Never used them."

"That would have been... September, of last year right. And you were out in the field again by November?" It was obvious that Ben was trying to figure out how someone could bounce back from such a potentially fatal wound, so quickly.

Alex shrugged, not wanting to get into the details. He had been back in only weeks after, but that didn't matter at the moment. "Is that enough for that scar?"

Ben read over what he had. "It's not much, but then, the reports shouldn't have too much detail in it. I'll check some other files to make sure the jargon makes sense. Now, what about those burns?"

Alex grimaced again, and proceeded to create stories for the worst of his burns and scars. None of them sounded too farfetched or outlandish. In fact, they could all happen to a fairly normal teenager with _horrible_ luck. Considering he had got out with _only_ those scars, Alex figured that he had _great_ luck.

Ben added some details here and there, and between the two of them, invented injuries that he would have gained as a child that left no scars. Just so it didn't seem like he hit teenage years, and started getting hurt all the time. The fact that he broke his wrist when he was five... wasn't entirely made up either.

Soon enough, they had a reasonable medical history for _Alec Pierre_. Now it was just up to Ben to finish the file, plant it in some unsuspecting hospital, and then gain a copy of it for the current hospital. Roundabout, but it would work.

After being wide-awake for nearly two hours though, Alex was starting to want to fall back asleep. He could handle being awake, he could force himself if he had to, but it seemed that his body had other plans. His body was still trying to recover, and whatever the doctors were giving him for the pain seemed to have a slightly hypnotic effect as well.

Somewhere in the midst of Ben explaining what his next steps would be—Alex slipped off to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>"You had no trouble killing Muscles.<em>_ What's to stop you from killing more people?__" The voice __taunted. "Do you really think your friend Ben would care about you anymore if he knew? If he knew what you were capable of?"_

_ "Shut up!" Alex shouted at the voice, trying to block it out. He couldn't stand it anymore. It was too much._

_ "You think he really _cares_? He's just using you, keeping an eye on __you. Mrs. Jones wants you back. She'll get you the moment you leave the hospital. Nothing can save poor little _Alex Rider_ from his destiny."_

_ "I'm not going back! I won't! They can't make me do anything."_

_ "Ooh, yes they can. You wouldn't want poor Tom get__ting dragged into working for them, would you? He has such a _bad_ home life. I'm sure he'd welcome the escape. They can always find something to blackmail him with if he doesn't want to cooperate. Or what about your other classmates. I'm sure an _arrangement_ can be worked out."_

_ Alex shook with rage. The voice was _lying_. It had to be. They wouldn't use Tom. Tom was safe, now that Alex was gone. Alex was _dead_._

_ "You'd think__ they're safe__... wouldn't you?" The voice asked. "MI6 isn't going to let you go so easily. They'll __have you back again. And this time, they'll use you as a killer. _Promise_."_

* * *

><p>Alex bit his lip to keep the nightmare from affecting him like the ones before the accident had. He couldn't afford to lose it here. Not when the hospital still had him ensnared. <em>I am safe. I am safe<em>. He couldn't stop the shaking though. While the nightmare itself was relatively tame compared to others, he didn't want to think about the meaning behind it.

It had been five days since Ben had found him though, and nothing had happened. There were no signs of agents in the hospital, and none of his doctors had mysteriously changed—personalities or otherwise. While he wasn't actually allowed out of the room, or out of bed, he was able to gather a lot from the nurses and just by listening. There was no unusual activity anywhere.

While his nightmares disturbed him—and it was clear the paranoid side of his mind didn't trust Ben at all—he found it impossible to believe that Ben would turn him over to MI6. Though he had only spent a total of a few weeks around Ben before, the man was just someone he _wanted_ to trust. He _had_ to trust, if he wanted to get out any time soon.

Between the painkillers, incredible fatigue, the beginnings of nightmares, and just all over lack of concentration, he found himself relying on Ben even more. He didn't remember ever feeling this worn out or beat down before, especially not while he was in a hospital. Even after the bullet wound. It seemed that this experience was determined to be all around worse.

In a way, Ben became his reminder system. Reminding him of important things that might have come up during the day. Somehow, Ben always managed to get the condensed version. Though... that might have been due to his daily swiping of Alex's updated record from the hospital database.

The doctor recognized the signs of fatigue, and was quick to assure Alex that it was completely normal. _'After an accident as serious as yours, it would be outrageous to expect __you to bounce back immediately.'_ The doctor had then proceeded to tell Alex that there was a ninety percent chance that he would be fully recovered—as far as the worst of the fatigue went—by the end of the month.

The side effect of the fatigue—therefore lack of concentration—was that Alex almost constantly had the feeling that he was forgetting something important. Something that was just on the edge of his consciousness.

Alex was in the midst of trying to piece together his fragmented day when Ben came in for his evening visit. Same time, every day. It made it easy to make sure he was actually awake for that hour...

"Long day?" Ben asked, taking his usual chair, and pulling out the _book_.

"I guess." He wasn't really paying close attention to Ben. The doctor had said something important... something important had come up, but he, Alex, had been reluctant with... the treatment? He almost groaned as he tried to piece the fragments of remembered conversation together. It was worse than hearing one side of a phone call.

Ben poked him in the arm. "Listen to me, for now. You can worry about sorting out your thoughts later."

Alex rolled his eyes.

"Your doctor thinks you might have a touch of an anxiety disorder."

Alex sighed. "Great. Another doctor that thinks I'm not right in the head." He thought of the psychologists he had left behind in California, not for a moment feeling any kind of regret. "And he won't even say it to my face."

"It's just a note on your records." Ben said, presumably trying to soothe the imaginary ruffled feathers. "They probably won't do anything, aside from recommending that you see a psychologist." Ben shrugged slightly, before glancing back down at the report. "Not too much of interest on here, except—why don't _you_ tell me about your day?"

Alex groaned. Ben just seemed to _love_ doing this to him. Making him recount all the useless little details that he could remember. It wasn't anything like the games Ian played with him when he was little... Alex crushed _that_ line of thought rather quickly. He _wasn't_ going to think about Ian.

Of course, he could always repeat the basics back to Ben. The unimportant information that the doctor relentlessly had him repeat back to him whenever he stopped by. _Where are we?_ A hospital in Hammersmith. _What day is it?_ Monday, the thirteenth of December, going on two weeks since the accident. _Why are you in the hospital?_ Got hit by a car. Then there was Alex's personal favorite. _When's your birthday?_ August. _August what?_ August 22nd. _And_—there would be a sigh there—_what year were you born?_ 1992.

The doctor definitely got on his nerves at times...

"Alex." Ben usually called him _Alec_, since they could never know for sure if they were truly alone. So when he did use _Alex_... well, it was almost always when he was slightly annoyed. "Quit staring at that wall and talk to me. I don't have all evening."

Alex shook himself momentarily, before glancing back at Ben. "Nothing much happened today. The nurses came by a couple times. I think they said something about my blood pressure being high, or something."

Ben nodded. "Side effect to one of the medications you're on. They're thinking about switching it. It might also make some of your anxiety symptoms go away."

Alex had to stop himself from snorting. The anxiety most definitely wasn't going away. At least, not until he was out of the hospital. "The nurse chattered at me during lunch, but I think she was just making small talk. I wasn't really paying attention, so it's just fuzzy memories. There was something with the doctor though..." He thought hard for a moment, lining up the fragments in his head. _Knee... injury... can't walk... Oh_. He swallowed, wondering _why_ something as important as that hadn't caught his attention sooner. "You heard about _that_ I suppose. They have to fix my knee, or I won't be walking for a long time."

Ben sent him the barest hint of a smile. "Yeah, I heard. Or rather, _read_. The doctor was busy before I came in here, so I took the opportunity to skim the updated report. I'd say bad luck, but when you think about it..."

"It could have been worse." Alex finished for him. "I know. But still... I don't like the thought of them knocking me out again." He shuddered slightly. After his history with sedatives and tranquilizers, he had a perfectly good reason to be wary of more sedation. In those moments of vulnerability, anyone could do anything. In a way, it was worse than restraints. At least with restraints he had some hope of escaping if it all went bad.

"Don't think like that." Ben said, seeming to read his thoughts. "It's a normal hospital, with normal people. And it'll only be for a couple of hours. Then you'll be back to your wonderful land of painkillers." He grinned, before ruffling Alex's hair. "It's not like you have very many options. I mean, without this, you'd probably be walking with a crutch or something."

"I still will be." Alex pointed out. The doctor had said a minimum of six weeks on crutches, before he could even _think_ about walking on his own. _Six weeks_. It screwed up so many plans. Like getting out of the country the moment he was released from the hospital. He wouldn't be capable of any running for... _months_.

Ben looked slightly sympathetic. "That'll be temporary though." He sighed. "Just think of it this way, you've been through worse and managed to bounce back. I don't know details, but I'm sure this is pretty minor compared to some things." There was a pointed glance to Alex's chest.

Alex snorted, before adjusting his position on the bed again. He had to admit, if it was the difference between walking _sometime_ in the future, and _never_ walking—unsupported—again, he was going to have to take his chances.

Ben stood up, snapping his book shut. "Think of it this way, in two days, you'll be significantly closer to being able to leave here." He ruffled Alex's hair again, before turning to leave. "Maybe I'll bring you a book tomorrow... goodness knows you need something else to concentrate on."

Alex just glared at him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Another of those chapters that took a lot of different edits. I think I changed the main point of the chapter about five times... and I decided not to do something that would be unbelievably cruel to Alex in this chapter. He's going to have enough problems in the next few chapters anyway... Nuf said. You'll find out soon enough. ^_^**

**Also, you might have noticed that I placed the 18 year old _Alec's_ birthday in 1992. I know that Alex was originally born in 1987, but since that would make the current year of this story 2002, I figured that wasn't such a good idea :D I'm a stickler for dates, so this is a sort of disclaimer... the current year is the end of 2010 and Alex was born in 1995.  
><strong>

**This is a quick update, so I won't say much more, aside from this—Please review! Thank you all so much!**

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	12. Relaxing Leave—NOT

**Disclaimer:**_ I'm too tired to think of something witty. Alex Rider does not belong to me, and I highly doubt it ever will._

**_Previously..._**

_Alex snorted, before adjusting his position on the bed again. He had to admit, if it was the difference between walking sometime in the future, and _never_ walking—unsupported—again, he was going to have to take his chances._

_Ben stood up, snapping his book shut. "Think of it this way, in two days, you'll be significantly closer to being able to leave here." He ruffled Alex's hair again, before turning to leave. "Maybe I'll bring you a book tomorrow... goodness knows you need something else to concentrate on."_

_Alex just glared at him._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 12: Relaxing Leave—NOT<strong>

"Okay. What's up with you?" Luke demanded.

Ben glanced up from his book—once again _pretending_ to read the actual book, while skimming through meaningless reports. He was surprised to hear how annoyed Luke sounded. "What?" He didn't think he had been acting _too_ out of the ordinary...

"You're reading a book, _again_. Did I mention how _out of character_ that is?" Ben was sure that Luke would have already grabbed the book, if it were possible. "You're actually ignoring everything around you. You didn't even react to the loud crash outside of the room—"

Ben stared at him blankly. "Loud crash?"

"Someone dropped a tray—seriously, you _didn't_ hear it?" Luke sent him a sharp glare. "Is whatever's going on today really _so_ stressful that you're completely zoning out?"

Ben grimaced. He hadn't told Luke what was going on—Alex would probably try to either escape or kill him if he did—but he had at least explained that he had something else going on. That he couldn't tell him about. _That_ had certainly made Luke curious.

He _was_ distracted though... Alex had already been pleasantly unconscious when Ben had stopped in to see him earlier in the morning, and he was going to stay that way for a while yet. The surgery to repair his knee would likely keep him unconscious for the entirety of the morning, and Ben was waiting for the notification that Alex was starting to wake up. There was always the possibility that Alex could say or do something, out of character, while he was waking up. Ben wanted to be there so he could at least caution _Alec_. If something went wrong...

Luke's glare intensified. "You weren't even this distracted when you had your job interview, and that had you pacing around the house for _days_."

_True_. This was different though. Alex trusted him—barely. If something happened... if Alex accidentally gave away his cover personality, he was likely to act first, ask questions later. Ben doubted that something as _simple_ as being confined to crutches would keep Alex in place if he truly wanted to get away. Most likely, the only thing really keeping Alex in the hospital, was the fact that the moment he tried to stand up, his knee was bound to give out.

"_Ben_, are you even listening to me?"

Ben started slightly, remembering that he wasn't alone. "Yeah, sorry Luke. I've just... got a lot on my mind." He sighed, before attempting a smile. "I'll be back to normal by tomorrow, promise"

Luke raised an eyebrow. "This doesn't have anything to do with your job, does it? Like, are they firing you or something?"

Ben forced a laugh. "Firing me? Nah, I'm too important for them to do that." Of course, they might rethink that if they found out that Alex was alive, and that he hadn't contacted _them_. "It's just... other stuff. Really, it's not all that important."

Luke rolled his eyes. "I'll believe it's not important, when you stop worrying about it." Thankfully, he dropped the subject there.

Ben sighed slightly, and glanced at his watch. Two hours and counting...

* * *

><p>Ben felt the buzz in his pocket, and discreetly checked the pager that the hospital had given him. <em>Yep<em>. It was time to go. He glanced over at Luke, who had fallen asleep again, before glancing mournfully down at his book. After the small argument with Luke, he hadn't gotten any more reading done. He was going to be behind in reading the reports by the time he got home.

He left the room, making sure to take his jacket with him. There was no reason for Luke to have even _more_ questions. It wasn't a long walk to the recovery rooms, and Ben met with Alex's doctor, after waiting only a few minutes. It seemed that everyone remembered that Ben was a government agent... at least there were some sort of benefits from that. Waiting times were almost zilch.

The news the doctor had... well, it wasn't exactly _disheartening_, but it was certainly depressing. The surgery had been fine, everything had gone according to plan, there was just the small fact that Alex wouldn't be up walking on his own for nearly three months. _Three __months_.

Ben sighed at the news, not sure what he was going to do about it. The last thing Alex was going to want, would be to stay somewhere for months on end. He was a teenager, after all. And his flat... it was on the second floor of a building that didn't have an elevator. There was no way he was going to be able to navigate those stairs on a daily basis... those were definitely some problems they would have to settle before Alex left.

After talking with the doctor, someone escorted Ben to see Alex. Alex was still fast asleep, looking almost the same as he had the past few days. He _did_ look more relaxed than usual though. That was probably the medicine doing its job.

The nurse with Alex glanced up as soon as Ben entered, and she seemed almost happy to find that Alex had a visitor. "He's just starting to wake up now." She said. "The medicines will take a while to wear off completely, and he probably won't remember waking up the first few times. Disorientation is normal."

Ben nodded, as he watched Alex. The teen's hand twitched slightly, in an almost reflexive move. Utterly silent though. It seemed that no matter what, Alex was quiet.

"So... are you a relative?"

"No. Just a... concerned friend."

The nurse smiled. "Glad to know he has someone now. I can't imagine how disorienting it would be to wake up somewhere where no one knows who you are."

_You have no idea_, Ben thought. He had a feeling that if he hadn't been able to reassure Alex that it was a normal hospital, Alex would have kept struggling until he wore out completely. He probably wouldn't have recovered—not for weeks, at least.

"He was here a few weeks ago. It's nice to know that patients don't stay as John Doe's forever."

Ben smiled too. "He's got the luck of the devil on his side. If I hadn't found him, I'm sure someone else would have though." But that someone might not have had Alex's best interests in mind...

A low groan caught their attention, and the nurse seemed to realize that her patient had woken up. She asked Alex a few questions that he barely responded to, before giving him a few ice chips. His body relaxed again, and Ben almost thought that he had fallen back asleep.

"Je déteste… les sédatifs." Alex mumbled, to no one in particular. _I hate... sedatives_.

Ben bit back a laugh, realizing that Alex didn't know anyone aside from the nurse was in the room. "Je suis sûr." _I'm sure._ To his credit, Alex didn't even react to hearing someone else speaking French. "Mais il serait préférable que tu parles anglais. Nous ne sommes pas en France." _But you might want to speak English. We're not in France_.

Alex's eyebrows furrowed for a moment, before smoothing out again. "Shut up, Ben." There was the perfect amount of inflection present, to pull off a very tired sounding French accent.

Ben grinned, before ruffling Alex's hair. He'd definitely be okay and back to normal very soon.

* * *

><p>Every time Alex woke up, Ben couldn't help but be impressed by his skill. He always managed to get just the right amount of accent and weariness across, so that when he did slip in the tiniest amount, the nurse didn't notice. Ben hadn't known if the accent would last through all the drugs, and was relieved to find that it did. One less thing to worry about.<p>

Without fail, Alex slowly reoriented himself, while still staying asleep the majority of the time. Occasionally he'd say something—mumbled, was more like it—before falling back into the calmest sleep Ben had seen on the teen.

It was just as Alex was falling back asleep again—after mumbling nonsense about muscles—that Ben felt his phone vibrate. The vibrating could only mean one thing. Someone from _the bank_ was calling. He had silenced his phone completely, except for letting calls from the bank get through. Unfortunately, where he was at the moment was not a place to answer the call, so he let it go through to voicemail.

He bit his lip, ignoring the vibrating. It would have to wait until later... there was no reason he could think of for the bank to be calling him though. It had to be important, since he was on leave. Was it possible that they had somehow discovered that he knew where Alex was? _That_ was an unsettling thought. Alex would react badly if they did, and Ben knew he couldn't lie to Alex.

Nearly an hour later, Ben left the recovery area. Alex was still barely awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, but Ben knew he wouldn't suddenly drop the accent. Acting like Alec, it seemed, was almost as natural to Alex as acting like himself.

Ben walked down the halls, heading toward the stairs once again. The message on his phone hadn't left his thoughts at all, and he couldn't think of a single scenario that could be good. In the relative quiet of the stairs, he pulled out his phone and tapped in the security code for the voicemail.

_"This is a message for Benjamin Daniels_." The cool voice of one of the office secretaries came over the speaker. Ben had heard from this secretary far too many times. _"The Royal and General bank req__uests your presence, at your earliest convenience, to update your account on new security measures."_

Ben's heart sank. _S__ecurity measures__._ There was a threat somewhere, and MI6 needed to brief him on it. Were they pulling him off leave? They couldn't. Not now. It would be disastrous. If he left, no one would be able to look out for Alex, and the moment Alex was released the trail was bound to go cold. For a moment, Ben thought about pretending to have not seen the message... except Smithers had call tracing and the moment anyone wondered, they'd know he had heard it.

He had no choice.

* * *

><p>Ever since he had heard the message... well, Ben had a feeling things were going to go downhill. A lot. The moment he stepped outside the hospital, he noticed the difference. The people on the streets—or rather, the lack of people on the streets—was glaringly obvious. Something had happened again, something that had the people reacting almost the same way they had after the bombing.<p>

By the time he reached the bank, security around it had already been stepped up. It wasn't obvious to the civilian population, but Ben knew exactly where to look. There were snipers across the street, ready to pick off anyone that posed a threat to the building. The regular looking bank workers—low-level operatives and foreign interns—had been replaced by mid-level operatives, prepared to use guns on any non-authorized intruder. Level 2 security had been turned on, on all internal doors in the building. No one could get in or out without the proper clearance.

Ben nodded slightly to one of the desk workers, alerting them that he had _real_ business in the building, before heading over to the lift. A discrete scanner showed the moment he pushed the _'up'_ button, and he swiped his badge. He counted off the seconds as some of Smithers' gadgetry checked him for any hidden weapons or bugs, before the doors to the lift opened smoothly. No one so much as gave him a second glance as he disappeared into the lift.

Once the doors closed, Ben placed his hand on the scanner that appeared next to the level buttons. It scanned his handprint, as well as checked to make sure he was still a living, breathing, human. He typed in his security code, and soon the lift started upwards, satisfied with his identity.

Ben had no doubt as to where he was supposed to go, especially when the lift dropped him off on the sixteenth floor. The only business that he had on the sixteenth floor was with a certain Mrs. Jones. Her secretary informed her that Ben was there, and after waiting for a few minutes, Ben was waved through.

She was sitting at her desk, almost compulsively unwrapping a peppermint and popping it into her mouth. She had had the habit as long as Ben had known her, and wondered just _what_ had caused it... now wasn't the time for that.

Ben wasn't sure what to make of the entire situation. There were numerous—not good—reasons why Mrs. Jones could have called him to her office...

"Agent Daniels." She glanced up from the innumerable piles of paperwork on her desk and waved him to a seat. "I'm sorry to have called you away from your... erm... _vacation_. I'm afraid that my secretary made the message sound a little more _urgent_ than needed."

Ben raised an eyebrow. So it couldn't be too bad...

"Have you heard any news this morning?"

"No."

"Hmm..." She shuffled through a few papers, before passing over what looked like a preliminary report. "Agent Neilson and Agent Faraday were assigned two weeks ago to investigate what looked to be a small terrorist cell that was planning to place a bomb in the Prime Minister's private residence. The agents were unable to uncover any plot while they were with the group, and in the end, we got them on gun trafficking charges."

Mrs. Jones nodded toward the report Ben had. He glanced through it, not finding anything out of the ordinary. It looked like a completely ordinary operation, though _something_ had to have gone wrong for her to be informing him of it. Vaguely, he remembered reading an earlier report from the same agents, having tagged it as possible association with the airport bombing. Nothing had come of it though...

"Five hours ago, we caught a coded message from a device in their headquarters, with instructions for a rendezvous point, for roughly three hours ago, within a five minute walk of the Prime Minister's private residence. The Prime Minister was there, recovering from what MI5 regarded as a suspicious outbreak of flu." She waved her hand vaguely. "The flu symptoms pointed to a very well disguised case of poisoning, to get the Prime Minister to go to his private residence. Ten minutes after we evacuated the premises, a bomb went off. An undercover agent confirmed SCORPIA involvement an hour ago. It's the first movement in the UK from them since the airport bombing."

Ben swallowed. While SCORPIA hadn't been connected directly to the airport bombing, they were the highest suspect, considering their past attempts. It was unclear what they were planning for though. They hadn't made any demands.

"As a general announcement to all of our off duty personnel—SCORPIA is at the highest threat level, and may be planning something drastic for the major cities in the UK. Anything they do—can and will harm as many civilians as possible. It is still unclear as to how they recouped so quickly after... Alex brought them down in June." The pause was just a fraction too long. Anyone that had known Alex, knew what had gone on between the higher ups of MI6 regarding him _working_ for them. In the end, Mrs. Jones had opposed the idea and eventually sent him to California. Months after she had _freed_ him, he had _died_.

Ben felt the stirrings of guilt. It was hard to keep the fact that Alex was alive away from his superior. It would be a breach of trust though, and Ben knew it. Mrs. Jones though... the only time Ben had ever seen her show any emotion, was where Alex was concerned.

"Daniels, with your particular involvement with SCORPIA and the Snakehead, it is wise that you keep your eyes open." Her tone was brisk, and all business again. "They seem to be in the progress of getting revenge against agents that have gotten in their way and survived. With your involvement with... Alex, I can only guess that you would be at the top of one of their lists."

Ben nodded slowly. Well, he knew he didn't expect to be at the top of their _'favorite people'_ list that was for sure. "Is my family in danger? They don't know anything about MI6."

"Not at the moment. They haven't made any move against us in the UK, but are instead focusing on agents currently in the field. We're in the process of recalling any agent that has any ties with SCORPIA that is out on assignment." She unwrapped another peppermint and popped it in her mouth. "Be careful though. If you suspect you or your family members are in danger, don't hesitate to contact us."

Ben recognized the dismissal, and stood up to leave, mind churning over the information. He could have SCORPIA assassins after him. Any minute.

Mrs. Jones returned to her paperwork, seemingly undisturbed by the news she had just given him.

* * *

><p>Ben was back in the lift, heading down, still trying to figure out just what he was going to do. It was dangerous to be around other people when he could have an assassin on his back any moment... of course, Mrs. Jones thought he was safe. <em>For now<em>. If SCORPIA somehow found Alex though... MI6 would never know that Alex had survived the bombing, and he'd be lost in SCORPIA's clutches, with no hope of rescue.

It was tempting to go back to Mrs. Jones' office, and tell her everything, just so Alex would have some sort of protection. He couldn't though... even _i__f_ SCORPIA was after him... Alex would never forgive him.

"Daniels! I thought you were on leave." _Chris Braden_. The man stepped into the lift, raising his eyebrows slightly at Ben. Braden was one of the best in the department at deep cover ops, and had been one of Ben's temporary partners when he first started at MI6. "Don't tell me Jones is pulling you back in after a few weeks?"

Ben shook his head. "No, Jones was just giving me an update, and telling me to watch my back. Seems the SCORPIA business from last fall is coming back to haunt me. With a possible assassin."

Braden grimaced. "Welcome to the club. There's nothing quite like knowing an assassin can come after you any moment to keep you on your toes."

"You too? I thought you were out in the field." A rumor had circulated the building that Braden had refused to leave his deep cover op after the bombing, until either the bombing case was solved, or he had a contact in SCORPIA. Ben had to admit, if he had spent nearly eight months of working in deep cover, he doubted he would have quit easily too.

"Yeah, well, things happen." Braden scowled slightly. "Our cover was blown—I was working with Mendelssohn again, so it wasn't my partner's fault." There was an unsaid _again_ at the end of the sentence. "We even had contact with a SCORPIA agent. A week later, he's dead, and SCORPIA's braying for our blood. I'm just glad they didn't have our real identities. Unfortunately, it was a minimal disguise op, so we're stuck here until Jones figures out a safe house for us." The lift dinged as it stopped on the third floor. "Or when she finds a decent job for us."

Ben nodded slightly. Occasionally deep ops were best done with a natural face, especially those occurring over months at a time. Keeping a disguise up at all times could be hard in certain occupations.

Braden walked out of the lift, and raised a hand in a wave. "Have fun dodging your assassins."

Ben's lips quirked slightly, before returning the wave. The doors slid shut again, and he sighed. So much for a nice relaxed leave.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, let me just get out there and say it. DISCLAIMER FOR THE FRENCH. I don't know the language very well (really, I know next to nothing) and I'm sure there are some glaring errors. :D Feel free to correct me if you know the language!**

**There, now that _that's_ out of my system... The plot thickens, but there's still not very much action. But really, how much action can you get while Alex is still tied up in the hospital? Just bear with me ^_^ Ben should have a little action thrown his way in a chapter or two, just to spice things up a little.**

**Thank you for the reviews! And please, constructive criticism is greatly, _greatly_, appreciated!**

**S.B.L.**

**A/N 2: Thanks to Alium for the French translation!  
><strong>


	13. No Stopping

**Disclaimer: **_Nope. Not mine. I'm definitely not Anthony Horowitz._

_**Previously...**_

_Braden walked out of the lift, and raised a hand in a wave. "Have fun dodging your assassins."_

_Ben's lips quirked slightly, before returning the wave. The doors slid shut again, and he sighed. So much for a nice relaxed leave._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 13 No Stopping:<strong>

Alex stared at the backs of his eyelids, wanting to fall back asleep. He didn't really care about whatever it was the doctor had told him—something about a good recovery and not trying to get up. He was sure that _eventually_ he'd care, but if it were really important, they'd be sure to remind him numerous times over the next few days.

Even though it had been hours since he had started to wake up from the surgery—he hated to even _think_ the word—and the drugs were finally leaving his system, he was more than ready to fall back asleep. He _hated_ the recovery process. It always left him feeling so tired. Lethargic. Completely wiped out. Not that he wasn't completely worn out before... At the moment though, he doubted that anything could really catch his attention.

The nurse had chattered at him for a while, after Ben left for wherever it was he had to go, but it was basically in one ear, and out the other. Even when she talked about moving him to a different room—a _shared_ room—he didn't pay close attention. While he had never actually shared a room with someone else in the hospital before, he was currently too tired to raise any objection. It just meant that he had to be _Alec_ the entire time. No matter what. No down time, whatsoever. It sounded exhausting.

By the time they came around to move him to his new room, he was almost asleep. A small part of his brain told him he should be worried about the bed being moved by strangers. That the people _might not_ be employed by the hospital... They were just lucky that the medicines were still keeping him calm and compliant. Moving and attacking strangers just wasn't in the realm of possibility for now.

Almost as soon as they had moved him to his new permanent bed, he was drifting into his dreams again.

* * *

><p>To say Alex was disoriented when he woke up was an understatement. He felt his heart rate pick up dramatically, as he tried to place the unfamiliar walls and curtains in his memory. The bed he was in kept his head propped up, so he had a good view of the room. Of the <em>unfamiliar<em> room. After a few moments though, the familiar tang of disinfectants penetrated his senses, and he calmed. He was still in the hospital.

His heart slowed back down to a normal rate and he breathed easy once again. He didn't need the nurses and doctors talking to him about anxiety and panic attacks again, as he most certainly _did not_ want to talk to someone about it. Thankfully, it seemed that they had brushed aside the worst of the effects of it as being a result of the medicines and the stress of the situation. If they thought _this_ was stressful, they didn't know anything.

He closed his eyes again, trying to relax. It was rather hard, knowing that there was another person in the room. Though, for the moment, it sounded like they were asleep as well. As long as he kept himself calm and under control...

The slight squeak of shoes on the floor alerted him to the presence of another person coming into the room. Alex peeked out through his eyelashes briefly to see if they were coming for him, but was content to see just a slight fluttering of the dividing curtain. From the footsteps, and sounds drifting through the curtain, it seemed that the nurse had come in. The nurse was busy with whoever his roommate was, but Alex had no doubt that he'd be next.

_Relax. I'm safe here...__ It's definitely _not_ a SCORPIA agent. There would be a lot more screaming..._

He had almost succeeded in lulling himself back to sleep when he heard the curtain ruffle. The footsteps came toward him, and he peeked out again to confirm the nurse's identity. Her badge swung from a clip on a pocket, confirming that she worked for the hospital.

_Badge's can be faked._ Then again, so could just about anything else. There was no reason to think that anyone would be after him though... Alex pretended to stay asleep while the nurse did a few of her checks and determined that she was who she claimed to be. When she reached for his IV though, he convincingly woke up. It didn't hurt to be cautious.

"Morning, sunshine." She said, sending him a smile. "Just a little something to keep that knee from getting infected." She nodded toward the medicine she was currently putting into his IV. "Wouldn't want all that hard work to go to waste, now would we?"

Not quite sure what to make of her, he mutely shook his head.

She smiled again, before discarding the needle into a container. "Now, how's your pain? On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst pain you can imagine."

That actually took some thought... compared to some things, this barely hurt at all. He could breathe easily, without having to worry about accidentally hurting something. On the other hand though, just the _thought_ of moving his leg made him tense up in anticipation. He just _knew_ the moment he tried moving, pain was going to come. "Four?"

The nurse nodded, before disappearing through the curtain again. She came back a few moments later with a cup of water and two pills. "Swallow those. It'll starting working over the next hour, while your stronger painkillers start to wear off. If that doesn't control your pain, just press the call button, and we'll get you something stronger. Go slow with the water though, we don't want you getting sick on us."

Alex's stomach tried to roll, just at the thought of water. He pushed down on the sensation, drinking just enough of the water to swallow the pills.

"Good. Just keep drinking water over the rest of the morning. Are you hungry at all?"

He shook his head. The thought of food just made him feel sick. Water though... he could handle water, as long as he did it carefully.

"Okay then. If you need anything, just press this button." She handed him a remote like device. "If you want the head of the bed raised anymore, just hit the up button."

Alex sighed as the nurse disappeared from view. Alone again. Well... except for his mysterious roommate. He was annoyed that he was in a situation where he didn't know who the other occupant of the room was. It was an unsettling feeling. It could be anyone. A killer. SCORPIA operative. A kid from his own school...

He glared at the wall across from him for a few moments, trying to figure out if there was any way to find out who his roommate was. After gleaning absolutely _nothing_ from the wall, he checked out the rest of his surroundings.

The curtain stretched from one wall to the other, presumably between his bed and that of his roommate, and kept him from seeing the other half of the room. His half wasn't too interesting. There was a window to the side and he could see a drab cityscape in the distance, but nothing more. No skyscrapers or other buildings nearby. Nothing that a sniper could shoot from. Relatively safe.

As tempting as it was to make sure that the room really was secure from outside attack, he didn't do anything more than just look. The doctor had told him—in no uncertain terms—that if he tried to get up, he would end up seriously injuring himself and ruining the repair that they had just done. Not wanting to repeat the experience with sedatives, Alex figured that following orders was the best thing to do.

With nothing else in the room jumping out at him, he didn't even try to fight against the hypnotic lull of the painkillers. Almost without consciously thinking about it, he drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

><p>It was the oddest experience, drifting in and out from the painkillers. It seemed that the current dosage of whatever it was he was getting, was the perfect amount. It kept him pain free, lucid—to an extent—and the nightmares that had been coming and going for the past few nights were nonexistent.<p>

In between waking and sleeping, vague thoughts drifted into his mind, almost all relating in some way to his current predicament. Would he be able to walk before the doctor said? Or would he really have to wait weeks? What were Kleczka and Rosen up to? Had they informed SCORPIA about him? Was that why Muscles had been there in the first place? Or was there something more sinister going on? Was he a _monster_ for killing the SCORPIA agent? Was Ben going to come back? Or had he decided that contacting MI6 while Alex was incapacitated was a much better option?

The last of his thoughts, he quickly dismissed. Ben _wouldn't_ betray him. Would he? He doubted that getting Ben to go away would be simple—if going to MI6 could be considered _simple_. It was more likely that he would have _trouble_ convincing Ben to leave him alone. Though he wouldn't admit it to Ben, he liked having the older man around. It kept him from going crazy from his imprisonment.

When he ran out of water in his cup was about the same time that he really started dwelling on the reasons he was in the hospital in the first place. Namely, the SCORPIA agent in the pub he worked at. _SCORPIA_. He had known Kleczka and Rosen were involved in criminal affairs, but he had never thought that it would have _anything_ to do with SCORPIA... he would have left a lot sooner if he had. He should have known.

Alex was sure that some higher up in SCORPIA had gone to the bar when Muscles had never returned, or when they found the body with a hole in his head. He still shuddered just thinking about it. Kleczka and Rosen had probably given him up the moment SCORPIA had started digging deeper.

It was only a matter of time before they caught up with him again... After all, _Alec Pierre's_ history wasn't exactly fool proof. Ben had helped make things seem more realistic—to someone who wasn't looking professionally. Someone looking deeper—someone from SCORPIA—could very easily find out that Alec Pierre hadn't been around for very long. They could deduce that he was definitely someone that had something to hide. Or hide from...

_"—awake, but I haven't heard anything."_ A voice drifted through the curtain, obviously trying to keep the volume down. Alex strained to hear it more clearly, wondering if it was his elusive roommate. He hadn't heard a sound from the other side, since the nurse had been in the room. "—last night." The voice became slightly louder and clearer. "The nurse said he was my age." So it _was_ the roommate. It wasn't surprising that the hospital would put patients close in age together... that would mean he would be around eighteen.

"—you... name?" There was someone else present, but the voice was just quiet enough that Alex couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

"Nope. It's probably on the door though. I think he must be a foreigner."

"Oh?" Footsteps went toward where Alex presumed the door to the hall was. Another reason why escape was impossible. He'd have to get by his roommate first...

"I heard him muttering in French last night, after they brought him in. Only sound that came from there though."

The footsteps stopped abruptly, and the second person laughed. "Oh, Alec, what have you gotten yourself into?"

_Another Alec?_ That could get confusing...

"Alec?" The roommate's voice sounded confused.

Alex's heart jumped. The roommate's name wasn't Alec. This person _knew_ him. It could be anyone that knew him as Alec. Not that there were very many. Which meant it was _bad_. What if the wrong person had accidentally found him, like Ben had...?

"You'll find out soon enough. I imagine he's awake right now, too." The footsteps came closer, and Alex tensed involuntarily when the edge of the curtain was pushed away so the person could come through. "Bien dormi, _Alec_?" _Sleep well_?

Alex let out a sigh. It was only Ben. "Toujours fatigué." _Still tired_.

"Why am I not surprised?" Ben smiled slightly, before casually walking over toward the window and looking out. "Tu es en sécurité ici." _You're safe here_. He seemed to judge an angle through the window, before turning back to Alex with a grin. "Je ne crois pas que les assassins et les snipers peuvent t'atteindre à travers la fenêtre." _I don't think the assassins and snipers can get you through the window_.

Alex smiled slightly, and let himself relax against the pillow again.

"Tu as l'air mieux aujourd'hui." _You're looking better today._ "More alive."

Alex shrugged, relieved to find that the gesture didn't cause pain from his ribs anymore. His mind was trying to figure out answers though. Ben was here, but he seemed to already know the roommate. He doubted that Ben would betray him to MI6 now, but he couldn't help but be cautious. Eighteen was awfully young to be another agent... so if it wasn't MI6, who was it? There was just something _off_ about the whole situation.

"Feel like meeting your new roommate?" Ben asked, his voice low so it wouldn't carry through the curtain. "He's been getting bored with a room all to himself."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "_Who_?"

"Mon frère."

_His brother_? Was that why he had been at the hospital in the first place? Because his brother was a patient? It seemed strange to think that Ben had a normal life at one point in time, and had a _normal_ family like almost everyone else. Still. A _brother_? "Okay..."

Ben grinned again, before ruffling Alex's hair. Alex glared at him, but didn't say anything about it. Ben pulled the curtain to the side, so Alex and his roommate could get a good look at each other.

The roommate's resemblance to Ben was clear, that was for sure. They both had the same icy blue eyes and dark hair. Like the nurse had apparently said, he was around eighteen or so... right around _Alec's_ supposed age. Both of his arms were wrapped in bandages—almost from wrist to shoulder—and his face showed that he had had an up close and personal meeting with the ground sometime in the past week or so. Currently, he was shooting looks between Ben and Alex.

"Ben?" He asked.

Ben nodded slightly. "Luke, meet _Alec_. Alec, meet Luke, my younger brother."

"Bonjour." Alex said, earning himself a light glare from Ben.

Luke shot looks between them again, chewing on his lip slightly. After a long silence, he finally directed a question toward Ben. "You _know_ him? Weren't you _just_ saying that you didn't know anyone else my age?"

Ben shrugged. "It's a very long and very complicated story." He said smoothly. "It's not important."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Not important, my foot. The last time you said that, you ended up leaving the SAS, and disappearing for two months."

Alex saw a flicker of unease on Ben's face, which was quickly covered up with the happy mask. Except, that's exactly what it was. A mask. And he had been wearing it ever since he had come in to see Alex... he knew something, and it seemed that Luke's questioning wasn't helping any.

A sinking feeling entered Alex's stomach that had nothing to do with food or water. Ben was hiding something. And that something, he wasn't just hiding from Luke.

"I met him while I was _with_ the SAS." Ben said. "When my unit spent a month in France. Remember that? I'm not saying anything more than that."

Luke huffed. "So you just randomly found him here, _and recognized him_, after what, almost two years now?" Alex was sure Luke would have crossed his arms, had it been possible. "Why do I not believe you?"

Ben made eye contact with Alex again, seeming unsure of what to say. Alex almost rolled his eyes, but stopped himself. There was a slightly wary expression on Ben's face, and Alex would have almost said he was preoccupied. Preoccupied with _what_?

"We met a few times since then." Alex said. He was only partially paying attention to what he was say, while trying to figure out what Ben could be hiding. Obviously, in front of his brother wasn't the best place to interrogate him. "Work and other such stuff. I used to be in the same line of work."

Luke look startled for a moment, before turning a glare on Ben. "_Wor__k_. I swear Benjamin Daniels, one of these days you're going to explain just what it is you spend all your time doing nowadays. You're on _leave_. Aren't you supposed to put all that behind you?"

_He's on __leave...?_

"We've been out of touch for a few months." Ben said. "I didn't even know he was here until last week."

"You're on leave?" Alex asked. It hadn't occurred to him that when Ben normally visited, most people would still be in the middle of a working day... Of course, if he was on _leave_ then what did he have to be preoccupied about?

Ben rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and swore colorfully in a language he most likely didn't realize Alex knew. Even Luke raised an eyebrow at it. "Des congés forcés. A cause du bombardement." _Forced leave. Because of the bombing._ "Cela concerne tous les employés. Je viens de commencer le mien." _All employe__es. I just started_ mine. He said it rapidly, and Alex guessed that Luke didn't know French _and_ didn't know about MI6.

Alex nodded slightly. The leave was somewhat understandable then. Odd, but understandable. He would have thought that MI6 would have wanted as many people on the case as possible. Then again... there was more than one reason to pull someone off for a break. Could _that_ have something to do with his preoccupation?

Luke sighed, almost dramatically. "_Oh, great_, you'll even switch languages on me."

"Forget it Luke." Ben said, glaring at his brother for good measure.

Alex watched the two of them closely. It was strange to find Ben having a brotherly spat. So different from the way he had seen any MI6 agent act. But Ben was already different. Alex would have almost said he was trustworthy... so _what_ was he hiding? He was almost afraid to find out.

"Can I trust you too be civil?" Ben asked Luke. "Or do I have to ask that one of you be moved, for Alec's sake?"

Luke frowned slightly. "Fine, but you're explaining eventually. Like once I'm out of here." He turned his gaze back to Alex, and the room fell into silence. Luke's gaze was sharp, as he looked Alex up and down. "So... what'd you do to get stuck in here?"

Alex stared at Luke blankly for a moment, before the question really registered. "Oh... hit by a car." He shrugged it off. Really, getting his by the car wasn't the worst of his experience so far. Well... minus the head injury. That was certainly complicating things. The problem with his knee though, had come from before the car accident. "You?"

"Flipped a four-wheeler. _Loads_ of fun that was."

Alex winced, automatically thinking of _Stor__mbreaker_, when the maniacs had tried to kill him with four-wheelers. He had seen firsthand the damage that could be done by flipping one. It had to hurt almost as much as getting hit by a car. "I can imagine..."

"Yeah, not an experience I'd like to repeat any time soon." Luke shrugged as best as he could. "So, have you missed any classes at university? Or... I guess, _are_ you in university? Or are you one of the immediate job types?"

Alex snorted. "No, not really. I guess I'm missing work, but I unofficially quit, so... yeah. I suppose I'll have to find another job eventually..." Though, how he was going to get a job when he couldn't even walk, he wasn't quite sure. The whole car accident seemed determined to make everything a lot more complicated. Running from people that wanted to kill his also wasn't going to be very easy...

"So no university? Or are you some kind of genius?"

"Nah. Just getting by with day to day living." As much as he enjoyed learning, there was no way he could fake the entrance tests. Especially since he had never finished formal schooling... three less years of school than the other students made things rather impossible.

"Lucky. Sometimes I wish that I'd dropped when I had the chance. Now... I don't see myself getting very far in the world without a degree of some sort. Personally, I think Ben had it easy. All he had to do was join the military."

"Yeah, and that was a piece of cake." Ben said, sarcastically. "There's nothing like running miles and miles a day, with a heavy backpack, out in the middle of nowhere, or parachuting out of an airplane into the middle of a jungle." He snorted. "University would have been _much_ easier."

Alex almost smiled. He was sure that any comparison between the military and university was completely circumstantial. There were pros and cons to both sides, and having experienced MI6—and the SAS for two weeks—Alex would have gladly gone to university _any day_.

"Yeah, but it sounds like much more fun. Really, who would want to spend an entire day with their nose in a book, studying for some final that will make or break your career?"

"We had tests in the SAS." Ben pointed out.

_Surprise tests too_, Alex thought, remembering the RTI session. And really, he could think of working for MI6 as one big test too. The test that could _make or break_ his life. Tests that determined if you were good enough to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, or if you should just be _dead_.

Luke glared at his brother again. "Sure, sure. _Life changing_ tests." He dropped the subject there, before turning back to Alex and attempting to grill him on his life.

Alex sidestepped most of the questions, turning them back on Luke and finding out _far_ too many details. He was in his first year of studying sociology at _The London School of Econom__ics_, a fancy title for just another university out there... Luke had grown up with overbearing big brother—aka, Ben—but the two of them both managed to deviate far from their parent's original plan of keeping the family business in the family.

Throughout the whole _interrogation_ though, Ben had remained strangely quiet. Alex had even caught him sending a few wary glances toward both the window and the door to the hall. Something was definitely on his nerves... but if he was on leave, that meant he _shouldn't_ be worrying about something. Right?

After an hour of Luke's almost incessant chattering, with barely any prodding from Alex or Ben, he finally quieted down. It seemed that even he had his limits. Ben had pulled out his book again, though Alex was sure that he wasn't actually reading anything. His eyes weren't tracking across the page, for one thing. He was just staring at it, occasionally turning page to keep up appearances.

As much as Alex wanted to pick Ben's brain to figure out what was up with him, he was ready to go back to sleep. The weariness had been put off for a while, but Alex could already recognize the fuzziness crowding the edges of his thoughts. After a few minutes of quiet, he was off drifting into his land of drug-induced sleep once more.

* * *

><p>Alex wanted nothing more than to sit Ben down somewhere, and force answers out of him.<p>

Unfortunately, Alex was still bedbound, and Luke happened to be in the room _all_ the time—though he wasn't exactly bedbound. Ever since moving to the permanent room, Ben had been frustratingly vague on almost _everything_. While Alex understood to an extent that they had to be extremely cautious around Luke, that didn't mean that he had to cut off _all_ contact. They _could_ speak in _French_.

Despite the fact that Ben was around almost the entire day, Alex hadn't been able to shake off the feeling that there was something else going on. Something that had Ben constantly wary. Of course, the moment Alex really started thinking about it, the only answer he could come up with, was Ben was doing something he shouldn't.

_MI6_...

The moment the thought popped into his head, his sporadic nightmare-dreams started playing off it. Twisting and turning what he did know into something he couldn't deal with. Something he didn't want to think about, but was forced to by his subconscious.

_He gave you up._

_ He found out your secret._

_He can't hide a _killer_. A coldblooded killer._

_ They're waiting for you... Mrs. Jones can't wait to get a hold of you again. Use you._

_ Escape isn't an option._

_ You'll never even__ make it out the door._

The nightmares seemed to get progressively worse, each time he fell asleep. They didn't come around _all_ the time, but often enough that Alex didn't forget them. Not when he saw Ben most of the day, and the man refused to answer his more pointed questions.

_"Luke's here."_

_ "Later, Alec."_

_ "I don't want him to get suspicious."_

_"Wait until we're alone."_

The problem was—they were _never_ alone. Luke was always there, always watching and listening. Nurses came in at regular intervals as well. Doctors and physical therapists... there was always someone in the room. Alex wanted to yell at them to just leave him alone, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything.

In return to Ben's off-putting attitude, Alex found himself rejecting Ben all over again. Pushing him away. He couldn't help but start to believe his own nightmares.

Ben had given him up. That's why he was wary. _Guilty_.

In that case, Alex cut all ties. He wanted nothing to do with Ben or Luke. The moment he was free from the hospital, no matter what MI6 tried, he was going to disappear. Nothing was going to stop him, short of death.

_Nothing_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There we go. Poor Alex. Loads of tension and whatnot in the end. And Luke even makes an appearance (poor, poor, Luke has no idea). Now I just having to work on getting Alex _out_ of the hospital... easier said than done, I think. There _will_ be action in the next chapter, so look forward to that!**

**Thanks for the reviews!  
><strong>

**S.B.L.**


	14. A Day from Hell

**Disclaimer: **_Even if I legally changed my name to Anthony Horowitz, Alex Rider still wouldn't belong to me._

**_Previously..._**

_Ben had given him up. That's why he was wary. _Guilty.

_In that case, Alex cut all ties. He wanted nothing to do with Ben or Luke. The moment he was free from the hospital, no matter what MI6 tried, he was going to disappear. Nothing was going to stop him, short of death._

Nothing.

**CHAPTER 14 A Day from Hell:**

* * *

><p>Alex had been ignoring him completely for the last two days. Not that Ben didn't think he deserved it. Alex had obviously wanted to talk, and all Ben had done was tell him to wait. In hindsight, it really hadn't been the best way to deal with the situation. He could have at least explained his reasoning to Alex.<p>

Ben himself had been nervous ever since the briefing from _the bank_. The thought of a SCORPIA assassin coming after him, at any moment, was unnerving. While Mrs. Jones had said that they hadn't turned their focus to the UK yet, he couldn't help but wonder just _when_ they would know. When the first agent turned up dead with SCORPIA's signature?

He wasn't sure what he was going to do. If SCORPIA came after him, not only would his family be in danger, but Alex as well. The moment he told Alex though... there was no way to tell if Alex would trust him enough, or if he was just push him away completely. It didn't help that they had barely spoken to each other over the last four days.

While Alex tended to spend the majority of his time sleeping, Ben didn't think that it was because he was worried about keeping up his _Alec_ front. The injuries and surgery had been hard, that was for sure, and all in such a short amount of time, that _anyone_ would spend the majority of their time sleeping. Even Luke, almost two weeks after his accident, spent a good share of the day sleeping.

And after four days of sharing a room, Luke had barely learned anything at all about the small _eighteen-year-old_. Luke had remarked one day while _Alec_ was asleep, that he was even better at keeping his secrets than Ben was. More than once, Ben had heard Luke get uncomfortably close to an awkward question, and Alex seamlessly turned the question around, or got on to a different subject completely.

It was the only time Alex spoke though. When he was being _Alec_. There had never even been a flicker of _Alex_.

Then Saturday had come around, and Alex seemed to have turned off completely. Ben and Luke's parents had come by for a visit over the weekend, and while everyone had been curious about the roommate, they didn't hear a peep from him. Fast asleep, all day. Both Saturday _and_ Sunday.

Ben had hoped that when his parents were there, they'd get Luke out of the room, and he'd have a chance to talk to Alex. To clear up whatever seemed to be making Alex jumpy. He'd even had a _chance_ on Saturday, when Luke and his parents had gone out for a short walk, but Alex had been sleeping. Or rather, pretending to be sleeping. Ben could tell the difference between true sleep and fake, but he couldn't figure out _why_ Alex was acting the way he was.

It had frustrated Ben to no end. He knew he needed to talk to Alex. Alex had wanted to talk, only a day before. The problem was—he couldn't say things in front of his brother. He couldn't risk it, and he thought Alex would have understood that without having to explain it all. Except he guessed that Alex had noticed his tenseness over the last few days. Ever since Alex had changed room, coincidentally...

With the holidays right around the corner though, Ben was determined that they weren't going to have anything between them. Even if it meant he had to talk to Alex for three hours—_in French_—he was going to get Alex to talk to him again. No matter what.

* * *

><p><em>"—with Christmas only five days away, citizens all over London are getting ready for the most—"<em> Ben slapped his hand down on the clock, turning it off. Alarm clocks had to be one of the worst inventions in the world. He promptly rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

Predictably, five minutes later... he had to hit the snooze button again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

_"It's half eight here in the city of London. Nega__tive seven outside, with just a bit of wind, and some scattered clouds. Looking for it to warm up a little, to around one degree, with some possible snow showers in the later afternoon—"_

Ben hit the clock again, before grudgingly rolling out of bed. He had slept in long enough. More than long enough. At the current rate, he would get to the hospital significantly later than usual. At least going to visit Alex and Luke was better than being stuck underneath piles of paperwork at _the bank_. Holidays seemed to equal stacks of needless paperwork. He wasn't bothering with that this year. Thank goodness.

He skimmed over the newest reports while he ate his breakfast, looking for anything that might catch his interest. There wasn't anything. At least, nothing pressing. There were a few things relating to the most recent SCORPIA attacks on personnel—MI6 agents in the field and other intelligence agents—but so far, the few deaths had done nothing more than loudly proclaim that the organization was up to something. No one had any idea what they were planning. What they wanted.

_Maybe they're just wrecking havoc because they can..._

While Ben didn't want the other agents to dying, it was comforting to an extent, because it showed that SCORPIA's focus was still on the outside world. Outside of the UK. For the moment...

He grabbed his phone and jacket, and headed out of his flat. The days at the hospital were generally boring, considering both Luke and Alex spent most of the time sleeping, and Alex seemed to be ignoring Ben every other possibility he had. Not that he could understand _why_.

On a whim—and hoping that the fresh air would clear his mind—he decided to take the long route to the hospital. Public transport. Sure, it meant he'd get there even later than usual, but maybe he'd figure out a way to get through to Alex. Break the silence between them...

It was cold out, but Ben barely noticed the temperature. Despite the fact that Mrs. Jones had reassured him that SCORPIA wasn't after him at the moment, he couldn't help but feel that there was someone watching him. There weren't too many people on the streets, since the morning rush was over, and the majority of the people were in their offices. He was glad when he finally reached the stop for the train; at least then, he had a crowd he could blend into... maybe walking in hadn't been such a good idea.

He brushed off his more paranoid thoughts, refusing to let them take over—something he had seen in so many older and more experienced agents. No, the job wasn't going to change him. He was going to make sure of that.

Ben, along with almost all the other passengers, groaned when the train squealed to a stop and refused to start moving again. They were only a few blocks from the next stop, but still a ways away from where Ben's next transfer was. He cursed his luck. Of all the days... the train breaks down the _one and __only_ day he decided to take it.

_Luke's going to love this..._

Instead of the nice ten-minute wait on the heated train, he had a half hour—at the minimum—walk in the freezing cold to look forward to. While, he had wanted some fresh air... he wasn't sure if he had wanted _quite_ that much. Whatever the case, he quickly left the other grumbling patrons behind, and disappeared into the city.

* * *

><p>It only took Ben ten minutes to get lost in the city. He had a good idea of <em>where<em> he was going... he just wasn't quite clear as to the best route to get there. It's what he got for moving to a different part of the city only six months earlier _and_ driving almost everywhere.

He had stayed off the main roads—not wanting to risk getting run over—and ever since, had lost the feeling that someone was following him. Someone watching. He smiled to himself, before slipping down yet another street that just _felt_ like it was in the right direction. Maybe it was about time he started exploring the area, learning the ins and outs. After all, if someone was chasing him, possibly trying to kill him, it was best to have some sort of knowledge of the area.

Mostly the streets he wandered through had office buildings and small businesses; occasionally there was a housing development and a few corner shops here and there. Once or twice, he was sure he had even wandered through a retirement community. It all depended on which road he chose. While there weren't very many people out, there was just enough to keep the streets from having a deserted feel.

Well... right up until he turned onto the street that only had two buildings that didn't have boards over the windows. Some kind of pub, that almost looked out of place with its clean windows, and a nondescript building that had lights on in the front room. The two buildings looked... _wrong_, and alarm bells went off in Ben's head.

He crossed to the other side of the street, putting as much space between himself and the front doors of the two buildings as possible. There was just something wrong with the whole picture. The bar—well, it could get away with looking clean and respectable. The other building though, had the look that the only thing that could possibly go on inside was _not good_.

Ben was just about to laugh at his own cautiousness, when he heard the gunshots. Not just one, but repeated gunshots. From multiple guns. Shouting, yelling, and crashing came from both inside the bar and the other building. Ben picked up his pace, not wanting to get caught in the midst of some gang fight. A badge only did so much good, and he didn't even have a gun with him.

A figure crashed through the pub door, and Ben hurriedly ducked behind the nearest parked car, thankful for the small amount of protection. This was ridiculous. It seemed all his bad luck was coming down on one day.

More gunshots ricocheted around the street; a few bullets coming uncomfortably close to Ben's hiding spot. The glass on the car shattered as bullets peppered the body of the car. Ben wasn't sure if they knew he was hiding there, or if one of their opponents was running in his direction. That question was answered when the shooting stopped suddenly, and the sound of something heavy hit the ground, just on the other side of the car. Ben glanced under the car, and was able to make out the rough outline of a body.

Ben inched over, peering through one of the windows for a moment. He dropped back to the ground, seeing that there were more than ten men on the street with some rather hefty looking guns. He _really_ didn't need them to find him... The shouting started up again, but it wasn't in English, or any other language that he knew. Ben stayed frozen behind the car, never wishing more that he had let Smithers add the handgun—or some other gadget—to the spine of his bulky book. At least then, he would have felt a little more protected. As it was, he could only hope that they wouldn't start shooting in his direction again, and that no one would notice him.

Ten tense minutes later, with the yelling and an occasional gunshot here and there, Ben heard the squeal of tires on pavement. Three heavy duty—and no doubt, armored—jeeps pulled into the midst of the combat zone. In a matter of minutes, the opposition was completely gone. A group of soldiers combed the street, and it didn't take very long for one of them to find Ben.

"Stand up slowly, and put your hands on your head." The soldier barked. Obviously, the soldier thought he, Ben, was part of conflict.

Ben glanced over the soldier, noticing the familiar SAS patch on the uniform. He almost grinned from relief, but stopped, knowing that would put the soldier on guard. He was almost positive that this soldier was one of the newer recruits—well, within the last year—as he didn't remember seeing him around the camp. That meant though, that there would be older, more experienced SAS members around somewhere...

"What'd you find, Lynx?"

Ben had to stop himself from almost grinning again when he heard the familiar growl.

"Either a collaborator or a civilian."

"A civil—" Wolf came into sight, and stared at Ben. "What the hell? Fox?"

Ben let the grin show through. "Nice to see you too, Wolf."

"What are you doing here? You said you were on leave until February." His voice dipped to a growl. "You weren't the agent that called us here, were you?"

"No, that would be me." An agent walked toward them, shrugging a coat of dust off his shoulders. _Agent Braden_. It seemed that Mrs. Jones had found a job for him to do... "Daniels, I'd ask what you're doing here, but I think for now, it's best that we make a hasty retreat. They've got that place wired up to blow in a few minutes, and I don't think there's anything we can do about it."

"Right." Wolf started to bark out order. "Lynx, report to Albatross, we're moving out. Place is going to blow any minute. Any hostage that aren't already secured are to be left behind." He turned on Ben. "You're coming with me."

"And explaining why you're here." Braden added.

Ben sighed. The day was just getting progressively worse.

In less than two minutes, the three army jeeps were starting to move to a safe distance from the presumably bomb infested pub. The surrounding area had already been evacuated, thankfully. Snake and Eagle had both nodded at Ben, before returning to their respective tasks. Just as they were speeding away, the bomb went off, and the shock-wave rattled even those within the confines of the vehicles.

Ben glanced back, to see more than three-quarters of the pub and surrounding buildings destroyed by the bomb. The pub was all but obliterated, and only the sign out front still hung on the burning building. _The Emerald Badger_ was nothing but a pile of rubble, and Ben couldn't help but think that SCORPIA was behind it.

* * *

><p>Two hours later—nearly three hours after when he <em>should<em> have arrived, if he had just driven in that morning—Ben finally made it to the hospital. He had narrowly escaped having to go into headquarters to explain just what he had been doing in that part of town, thanks to the fact that his brother knew nothing about MI6 and his extended absence would raise suspicion. Not that being hours later than usual wouldn't have already.

After hearing the tales of his _luck-filled_ day, Mrs. Jones herself had demanded that he carry a gun for his own protection. And indirectly, protection for his brother—and unbeknownst to her, _Alex_. The reassuring weight from the holster and gun that another agent had given him, made him remember that now, more than ever, he needed to get Alex to talk to him. SCORPIA was becoming a very real threat.

A little unnerved by the events of the morning, Ben took the stairs up, not wanting to give luck another chance to delay him. At the rate his day was going, if he had stepped foot into the lift, it would have broken down between floors _and_ the cable would have snapped, sending him crashing to his death. Well... maybe that was going just a little _too far_... he'd only break a few bones.

_The worst of the day is over_, Ben thought, slightly amused. He figured he might just join Luke and Alex in taking a nap later on. With all the adrenaline currently running through his system, there was certainly going to be a letdown later on.

The moment he stepped into the shared room though, Ben was back up on high alert. Instead of being asleep like he normally was, Luke was wide-awake and was staring at the curtain separating the beds, with an anxious look on his face. The curtain wasn't normally closed either, except when the doctor was visiting.

Ben had to stop his hand from drifting toward where the gun was now secured. After his morning, he couldn't help but suspect the worst.__ A__lex was missing_. Someone had tried to kill Alex. Someone had __succeeded__._

Luke glanced toward the door, seeming to sense that Ben was there. "Where have you been?" He demanded. He wasn't angry. Wasn't annoyed. Just... _anxious_.

"What's going on?" Ben ignored Luke's question, not feeling that it was the right time to fill him in on the eventful morning.

Luke glanced back at the curtain, and Ben could hear people on the other side. It wasn't sound proof, but it kept the softer noises from coming through. There was no talking over there, for the moment. "I don't know. He was acting strange all morning, and when the nurse went in to see him, she got all worried about something. His doctor came in almost an hour ago." Luke glanced down at his bed, biting his lip. "They won't tell _me_ anything."

Ben clenched his fists. If he hadn't been... _detained_, he would have been around before anything happened. He'd know what was going on. _Of all days to be late..._ He joined Luke in watching the curtain, hoping for some sign of life from the other side, other than the low voices of the nurses and doctor.

After almost fifteen minutes of waiting, the doctor came out from behind the curtain, sent a significant glance toward Ben, and headed out the room. Ben didn't even bother to make an excuse to Luke. Worrying about Alex at this point in time was more important than their cover story. He'd deal with the repercussions later.

Ben waited until they were out of the hallway and in the small office-like room, before hounding the doctor with questions. "What happened? Is he okay?"

The doctor held up is hands to stop the questions. "Alec is okay, for now." He took a seat, and waved Ben to a chair. "He had a seizure this morning. Likely more than one. It's not completely unexpected, considering his head injury, but after almost three weeks since the original injury... it's very likely that he'll more in the future."

Ben was still caught on one of the first statements. "More than one?"

The doctor nodded. "When the nurse went in to see him this morning, his responses were below what they have been the past few days. His fatigue was worse than usual, he complained of a severe headache, and had difficulty concentrating longer than a few minutes at a time. He had a generalized seizure while I was checking him out, most likely the second seizure of the day."

Ben leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. It had seemed that the day was conspiring against Ben, but it seemed that life in general was conspiring against Alex. "Isn't there something you can do to keep him from having another... seizure?" The word sounded foreign on his tongue. A cold medical term. "Medicine or something?"

"He's been started on some medicine that will hopefully stop the seizures from occurring again. Sometimes we'll get it on the first try... others, it can take months to find the right combination. He'll need to get some tests done today and tomorrow, to get a firm diagnosis."

_Diagnosis..._ He was supposed to be getting better, not worse. "Has he been awake since the... since the seizure?"

"For a few minutes. He was disoriented and confused—didn't remember having the seizure—but that's normal. Right now is the recovery period for his brain, so don't expect him to be very responsive for a while. Exhaustion and headaches are common." The doctor stood up, clearly ending the conversation for the moment.

Ben stood up as well and started to head toward the door, but the doctor stopped him.

"When he leaves the hospital, it is not _wise_ for him to live on his own, not until his knee is healed sufficiently to bear weight, and the seizures are under control. Having a seizure in the wrong place could be disastrous for his health. Something you should probably talk to him about. Whether that means living with a friend or relative, or staying in a recovery facility, is up to him."

Ben nodded, chewing on his lip slightly. His day had just gone from bad to worse. Alex's wasn't much better though. Permanent medical problems for Alex; the last thing he wanted, or needed.

* * *

><p>Ben headed back to the room, thoughts whirling around in his head as he tried to figure out the best way to approach the problem. Alex hadn't been <em>talking<em> to him before, so how would he know if Alex was even _listening_ now?

He barely spared a glance for Luke—who sent him a curious look—and headed directly through the curtain to see Alex. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it hadn't been for Alex to seem so _normal_. In a way, that was what was different. He looked much the same as every other day. His hair was a mess, his face pale, the neon green brace once again stood out against the white sheets, but the look on his face, fast asleep, was almost peaceful.

Ben sank down into the chair between the window and Alex's bed, and watched him. At this rate, he wouldn't need assassins, criminal organizations, and MI6 after him to destroy his life. A simple little accident would make him reliant on others, no matter how independent he wanted to be.

For the little talking they had done since Alex had joined Luke's room, Ben got one message loud and clear. Alex wanted freedom again. He didn't want anyone else in his life, didn't want to have to make any type of bond that anyone could use against him. It was the life of a spy. Worried that anyone they were connected to would get caught in the crossfire.

Ben understood it all too well; he just wished that Alex didn't have that experience too.

All evidence pointed to the fact that Alex was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Even the accident had been something from an outside source. He had had a steady job—though from what he had said to Luke, it was clear that something had happened to make him quit—and the money came in steadily. The only problem was—it wasn't safe for him anymore. He needed someone to look out for him, despite how independent he wanted to be.

And unlike almost any other situation, the person Alex needed to be protected from was himself.

Ben let his head fall into his hands. That there was the glaring problem. There were ways around it, of course, but getting Alex to agree to any of them? Nigh on impossible. He wouldn't agree to stay with anyone that didn't know his secret already, and since Ben was the _only_ one that knew... Well... it certainly narrowed down the list.

A low groan from beside him caught Ben's attention. He glanced up to see Alex stirring slightly. The peaceful expression was gone, replaced with a pained expression.

Alex's eyes opened for a moment, before closing shut again. "Feels... _awful_." He mumbled.

Ben barely heard him, but could immediately tell the difference. It wasn't _Alec_ talking. The French accent was completely gone. Alex was making the first appearance since before the surgery. "Yeah, I'm sure it does." Ben said.

Alex rolled his head to the side—the gesture looked like it took most of the little energy Alex was showing—and squinted blearily at Ben. "_Ben_?" Something in his expression changed, and he pulled away, curling away from Ben. "_No..._ Go away."

Ben was immediately reminded of the teen he had met the first time. The scared and disoriented teen, that was afraid to trust anyone. "_Alec_, it's okay. You're safe here."

Alex shook his head, pulling away as much as he could without moving his leg. "Don't. I _trusted_ you."

"What?" Ben stared at him blankly.

"_They_... know. 'Bout me."

Ben jerked back in his chair. The only person Alex referred to as '_they,_' was MI6. "What? How?"

_I trusted__ you__._

Did Alex think that _Ben_ had given him up? Had his caution around Luke had been misinterpreted? Or did Alex have a genuine reason for thinking MI6 knew about him?

The attempt at a scowl was lost somewhere between a frown, and a sob. Alex was acting like he had been _betrayed_. "Why, Ben? _Why?_"

"Alec, I don't know what you're talking about." He said quietly. If Luke overheard... "If this—"

A muscle twitched in Alex's jaw, as he cut Ben off. "_You_." He said it, with so much loathing, that Ben wanted to recoil from him. "Told them."

"What? No! I didn't. I swear!" Ben leaned away from the teen, afraid of the implications the accusation could have. Alex would never trust him again if MI6 really did know. He would never find a way through to the stubborn teen. "I would never... Why do you think they know?"

Alex looked away, and closed his eyes again.

"No, don't do this. You _can't_ do this. We're talking Alec." Ben's voice was barely above a whisper, but the words almost came out as a hiss. "If you're going to accuse me of something, at least tell me _why_." Then he could at least try to figure out a way to fix things.

Alex mumbled something, with his eyes still closed.

"If you're going to say something, at least say it so I can hear you."

Alex's lip quivered, and Ben could have sworn that the teen was on the verge of breaking. Vulnerable, completely _vulnerable_. His emotions were clear on his face, something that anyone could take advantage of. For once, he was not the teen turned spy, but the emotionally destroyed teen, courtesy of MI6.

"Alec..."

"You wouldn't... didn't... tell me. Hiding something." The sentences sounded fragmented, and Alex frowned slightly. "You told them. Felt... guilty." His breath hiccupped, and he wrapped his arms around his chest almost protectively.

"Alex..."

"You... found out..."

_Found out what?_ What did Alex have to hide?

It wasn't the time to ask Alex questions though. Ben knew he needed to get Alex to trust him again. "Alex, listen to me. Yeah, I've had something on my mind the past few days, something that I _really_ didn't want to have to bring up with you, but I _promise_ it isn't because MI6 knows you're here." He turned Alex's face, so he could look him in the eyes. "I would _never_ tell them without your permission. I don't want to lose your trust."

Alex barely met his eyes, and when Ben let go, he turned away again. After a few moments of silence, he was obviously asleep again.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

><p>Positive that Alex wasn't going to wake up for a while, Ben went back through the curtain, to where Luke was still watching it with anticipation. With a long sigh, he sat down and rubbed at his forehead.<p>

Luke glanced between Ben and the curtain again. "Is he okay?"

"He will be."

"Good." Luke's gaze turned to Ben, curious. "What were you two talking about? It sounded like you were arguing."

Ben sighed again. "We weren't. He's just... he has trust issues. What happened seems to have made it worse for the time being." He didn't add that sharing a room and holding up a false identity for days on end could be emotionally wearing too.

Luke nodded slowly, amazingly taking that as a reasonable explanation. "So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Ben glanced at him, and raised an eyebrow. "No."

"Aw, come on. I'm worried about him too. Why'd the doctor talk to you anyway?"

"Because Alec trusted me, and made me his medical contact."

Luke snorted. "And you said he has trust issues."

"He does."

"Then why would he trust you? I got the impression that you've only met him a few times before." Luke fixed him with a gaze. "Don't think I haven't noticed that the two of you have barely talked in the past few days. I'm not as blind as you might think I am. You're wary of him, he's wary of you. You've both got some sort of secret that you don't want the other—or me—to know. You _barely_ trust each other." There was some obvious scorn in his voice.

Ben bit his lip to keep from taking his frustration out on Luke. "It's complicated Luke." He left it at that. The question though, kept going around in his head. _Why_ had Alex trusted him in the first place? Was it because he had nowhere else to turn? No other hope? Had Ben just been deluding himself into thinking that Alex might _actually_ trust him? Now he really had to prove to Alex, without a doubt, that his secret was safe...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So. Much. Ahhhhh. I feel so bad for doing that to Alex, but it _had_ to happen for the story to continue. So many things that I have planned wouldn't work right if that hadn't happened. The poor kid now _really_ has a messed up life. Not to mention the fact that he thinks Ben gave him up. Any guesses as to what Alex thinks Ben '_found out_'? Oddly enough, the scene between Ben and the doctor was what started me writing this story in the first place... and believe me, I've tried cutting this part, and it just doesn't work.  
><strong>

**So, there was _some_ action. Of a sort... just a gun fight, yelling, an bomb, some destroyed buildings *shrugs* not too much that directly involved Ben. It just kind of compounded on his _really bad day_. And the threat of SCORPIA looms closer and closer every day :D Wasn't it nice to see K-Unit too (even if it was for the equivalent of just a few seconds)?**

**Every review reminds me that I need to keep writing, so review away!**

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	15. He Didn't Want To

**Disclaimer: **_I'd love to own Alex Rider. Really. I would. But I don't. So there._

**_Previously..._**

_"Then why would he trust you? I got the impression that you've only met him a few times before." Luke fixed him with a gaze. "Don't think I haven't noticed that the two of you have barely talked in the past few days. I'm not as blind as you might think I am. You're wary of him, he's wary of you. You've both got some sort of secret that you don't want the other—or me—to know. You _barely_ trust each other." There was some obvious scorn in his voice._

_Ben bit his lip to keep from taking his frustration out on Luke. "It's complicated Luke." He left it at that. The question though, kept going around in his head._ Why _had Alex trusted him in the first place? Was it because he had nowhere else to turn? No other hope? Had Ben just been deluding himself into thinking that Alex might_ actually _trust him? Now he really had to prove to Alex, without a doubt, that his secret was safe..._

**CHAPTER 15: He Didn't Want To...**

* * *

><p>Sometimes Alex wondered about the effort of truly staying alive. At the moment, it seemed rather pointless. He felt like he was a<em>—barely—<em>living and breathing pincushion. A pincushion that couldn't move without having to worry about finding another needle sticking into him somewhere.

Really, it wasn't _that_ bad. It was only like that when the doctors were trying to figure out what the hell was going on with him. Alex thought it was pretty straightforward. He felt like he had smashed his head on something particularly sharp, like someone had taken to beating every muscle he had, and to top it all off, he couldn't think straight and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Even when he had been sleeping for hours already.

Every time he was awake though, his mind drifted to Ben. The man he had _trusted_ to keep MI6 away. _They_ had to be coming—that was the only explanation he could come up with. But... Ben had acted so surprised at the accusation. Had he really not expected Alex to see the signs? He wasn't _stupid_. They hadn't talked for days, and it was obvious that Ben had had something on his mind. Something he was keeping from Alex.

_"I would _never_ tell them without your permission. I don't want to lose your trust."_

Alex couldn't believe he had _trusted_ him. Ben wasn't different. He was just like everyone else. Determined to make Alex work for _them_ again. Crushing his freedom.

He had been planning to leave. That very day. The physical therapist had already started working with him, so he could start to walk around on crutches. He hadn't been able to go very far without feeling exhausted, but it had felt like enough. He would have slipped out after the physical therapy session, getting _'lost'_ on the way back to his room. No one would have been able to find him after that.

Life had a way of screwing plans up though. Now, he couldn't even move an inch without his whole body starting to hurt again. The doctor had explained that it was an aftereffect of the _seizure_, and that he probably wouldn't feel like doing much of anything for a day or so. The only thing Alex had felt like doing at that moment was strangling the doctor. Well... _that_, and going back to sleep.

_Dying would be so much easier than _this_..._

The only benefit was that right now, it seemed that the nightmares that had plagued him for the last few days had disappeared. At least then, the sleep that he did get was peaceful...

Alex felt like he had been through far too many medical tests and exams. He was sick and tired of being asked questions about what had happened, about something that he honestly_could not_ remember. Finally, they left him alone, and he had been drifting ever since. Not quite awake, and not quite asleep. A frustrating in between state that was completely un-restful. Vaguely he had heard Luke leave the room, something about x-rays... and wondered if the room would finally be empty. Something told him that Ben would still be there.

_The traitor._

Eventually though, he reached the point where he couldn't fall back asleep and looking at the backs of his eyelids ceased to be interesting. Sure enough, as soon as he opened his eyes, he found Ben sitting next to him, with the rest of the room empty.

"Hey, Alec." Ben sounded hesitant. "How are you feeling?"

Alex stared at him. _Annoyed. Angry. Betrayed. Confused. Hurt._ "Tired."

Ben nodded slightly. "Yeah, that's not unexpected."

Alex wanted to pull away, to put space between himself and Ben, but...

"You want to stay awake for a few minutes, so we can talk? Luke's gone for the moment."

Alex shrugged slightly, but he let his eyes drift closed again. Looking at nothing was better than having to deal with looking at Ben. _Why, Ben, why_?

"How about I talk, and you just listen. Okay?"

Alex sighed but nodded. There really wasn't anything he could do to _keep_ Ben from talking to him.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier. You... you think that I told MI6 where you are. And now they're just waiting for you to get better before they do something with you. Send you back to California or something, right?"

Well... _not_ the California part. He highly doubted that they would ever send him back. They'd just keep him somewhere. He was _dead_ now, so they could use him—exploit him—without worrying about any repercussions. _No one would know_.

"I didn't tell them anything." Ben said.

Alex scowled. "_Of course_ you didn't." It annoyed him how tired his voice sounded, but at least the sarcasm was still evident.

"No, hear me out, Alex." _Ah, here. The excuse._ "You were right; I was keeping something from you."

Well _that_ certainly pulled Alex up short. He hadn't expected Ben to actually admit to not telling everything. He had thought that it would just be more lies piled upon lies.

"I didn't want to talk to you about it was because I knew you weren't going to like it. But it _wasn't_ about MI6 finding you... or whatever it is you're so afraid of them doing. It was about SCORPIA."

_SCORPIA_. The name settled like a lead rock in Alex's stomach, and he opened his eyes again to look at Ben. Ben wasn't watching him anymore. Instead, he was staring out the nearby window.

"They're tracking down anyone that got in the way of their operations. Anyone. There were agents in the field, assassinated in the past few weeks, just because they had some tie with SCORPIA. Government officials have had attempts on their life, most recently the Prime Minister... SCORPIA's planning something."

_He... didn't__... tell__?_ Alex hugged his chest, nearly missing the real reason Ben had been so uptight. Should he really believe Ben? It could all be a set up again. But... part of him really wanted to trust someone. He was tired of all the cloak and dagger, tired of running and hiding. Was it really too much to ask of people, just to let him live on his own, and be somewhat _normal_?

"What has me worried though... well, they're probably coming after me at some point. Luke and my parents... they don't know anything about MI6, and I'd like to keep it that way. But with SCORPIA, I might not have a chance. So far, there haven't been any assassinations in England—minus the attempt on the Prime Minister—so apparently I'm safe for the moment."

Alex couldn't suppress a snort. It caught Ben's attention, and earned him a strange look. "They're... SCORPIA... after you? Because of... the Snakehead?" Alex bit his lip to keep a smile from appearing at the absurdity of it all. It had been their one joint mission together, and as far as Alex knew, the only time Ben came in contact with SCORPIA.

Ben raised an eyebrow at him. Obviously, he was starting to question Alex's sanity. "Yeah... at least, Jones thought I was a high enough priority to bring me in while I'm on leave and tell me to watch out."

Alex shrugged again. "If you were in danger... you wouldn't be here. They'd... make you disappear." He sighed, frustrated at how fragmented his sentences were becoming. He'd get to about half way through a sentence, before losing his train of thought, and having to start all over again. He'd need another nap soon, if anyone expected him to carry on intelligent conversation.

"I guess you're right. Who knows what they'll do when the threat comes home." Ben fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, before looking directly at Alex again. "You know—SCORPIA's active in London. They have people in the area."

"I know." _Muscles. The gun. Running._ He knew all too well that SCORPIA was in the area and he _really_ didn't want to have another run in with them. There was no way he could get away this time.

"Do you believe me now? I would never _ever_ tell MI6 about you without getting your permission first. If they _ever_ get on your trail, I'll tell you."

That implied that Ben wasn't going to just let him disappear once he was out of the hospital. A problem, but one he would have to deal with later.

"They have other things they have to worry about now. They're not going to be looking for someone that's dead, unless they have a really good reason. Some sort of solid proof."

"I guess..."

"Listen, the only way MI6 is going to find out about you, is if some kind of information comes out. I'm not going to tell them, and Mrs. Jones is probably the only other agent that could recognize you through your disguise. They're not going to find you unless you want them to."

Alex nodded slowly, letting his eyes drift shut again. "Okay..." He was afraid to trust. Afraid that something would happen again. He didn't like the fear. "Just don't..." He trailed off, losing his train of thought, before picking up another. "Just... talk to me. Don't... _clam up._"

A hand ran through his hair, and Alex could almost hear Ben chuckle. "I won't. And I'll find a way to keep you in the loop. There has to be a better way to communicate, without having to wait for Luke to leave. French won't work. If he hears any lengthy conversations, he just going to get suspicious—he's one of the most suspicious people I know out outside of the spying world. Maybe I should get you a book..."

Alex smiled slightly, while trying to smother a yawn. "Book sounds... good."

Ben laughed again. "It might be wise to keep your talking to a minimum. Your accent is completely gone."

Alex sighed. He _knew_ something hadn't sounded right. "Can't... think straight." He had to put so much effort into thinking, that he didn't have _any_ effort to put into maintaining the accent.

Ben's hand ruffled Alex's hair. "Go back to sleep then. We can talk later."

_Trust_. "Just... one more question." He blinked slowly, trying to line the thoughts up in the right order. "Why were you so late today?" Even after being so worn out from the seizure, it didn't take very much thought to realize that Ben had been _hours_ later than usual.

Ben laughed. "You know, it's a funny story..."

* * *

><p>He felt slightly better. <em>Slightly.<em> Alex was sure that if the medicines were really working properly, he would have felt better a whole lot sooner. It had been five days since the _first_ seizure, and normally after so many days, he should have been feeling better. Or so the doctors said.

Not.

The second seizure (or maybe it was the third...) had come as a surprise to everyone, prompting yet another array of medical tests to determine just _what_ the cause was. Once again, he had slept through most of the excitement. Ben had made sure to tell him _all_ about it when he feeling slightly lucid again.

The doctor increased the dosage of the medicine he was taking to prevent the seizures, after the latest—and this time provoked—seizure. Alex had wanted to yell at his doctor for _causing_ it, but he was too tired to do much more than complain to Ben about it, hours later.

Since their conversation, Alex had made to extend trust toward Ben again. After the explanation—SCORPIA was after him—it made sense to Alex just _why_ Ben had been reluctant to tell him about it. Really, the only thing keeping him in the hospital was his injuries. If he had been feeling any better, the moment he heard more information about SCORPIA being active, he would have disappeared. Forget the hospital.

As far as he was concerned, surviving SCORPIA was a much high priority than waiting until he could move without painkillers. He'd work through it if he had to. Unfortunately, he didn't have much of a choice, and was most definitely staying in the hospital until further notice.

The lack of suspicious people in the hospital also helped Ben's case, though Alex had spent the last few days mostly sleeping. He had barely been awake when his doctor came to talk to him about the diagnosis for his seizures. _Epilepsy_. Alex had wanted to cringe he first heard the word. It wasn't something that was just going to go away in a matter of days or even months. It was something that he was going to be stuck with for the rest of his life. Permanently.

The lack of seizures over last two days had been comforting in a sense, as it seemed that the doctor might have possibly gotten the dosage right, but Alex was almost afraid to hope. He was almost afraid of waking to the lagging tiredness and skull-splitting headache, with no memory whatsoever of what had happened.

The only real part of the diagnosis that had gotten through his sleepy haze was the fact that he shouldn't—_couldn't_—live on his own until the seizures were under control _and_ he had been seizure free for two months. He knew that if he had truly wanted to, he could have found a way out—if it had only been the doctors issuing the advice. As was, he knew there was no way that Ben was going to let him off on his own again, not for a long while.

"Happy Christmas, Alec."

Alex opened his eyes sleepily and glared at Ben. Ben was the only person that could accurately guess when Alex was awake or not. Either that or he was just _really_ persistent... "_Already_?" It seemed that the holiday had snuck up on him, and what had seemed days away was already there. Which meant... he had been in the hospital for exactly twenty-four days. Since he didn't actually remember anything of the first week, and barely anything from while he was in the ICU—practically another week—he wasn't too surprised that the days seemed to fly by. Spending the last few days sleeping certainly didn't help any.

"Yeah, already." Ben ruffled Alex's hair, something he had taken to doing when he realized that it annoyed Alex to no end. "You feeling okay today?"

"Yeah..." It was impossible to hide the yawn. "Tired... but nothing else."

"That's good." Ben picked up the book that he had given to Alex a few days earlier, and slipped in the latest update on SCORPIA's activities. While Alex hadn't exactly felt like doing much reading recently, at least he had been able to skim the updates and learn _some_. "Think you'll stay awake for most of the day, or sleep, like yesterday?"

Alex shrugged and yawned again. "Awake, maybe."

Luke laughed and walked around to the edge of the curtain. The curtain had stayed shut almost constantly since the first seizure, so Alex hadn't seen much of his roommate in the past week. Over the past few days though, it seemed that Luke had progressed so that he could get up without help, _safely_, without reinjuring his arms.

Now that Luke was up and walking without having to wait for someone to help him, he seemed to be enjoying his freedom. "If you manage to stay awake for the majority of the day, I'll be impressed. I think I can count on two hands how many hours you've been awake in the past three days."

Alex smirked slightly. "Special circumstances." He pushed himself into a sitting position. Really, _he_ didn't need to do that, the bed could do it for him, but it was so much more satisfying knowing that he wasn't quite as exhausted as the past few days. Sitting—while maybe not for a long time—was at least possible now. He could put weight on his arm, despite the fact that it was still in its brace, and it didn't hurt at all. Not even a twinge of pain, as what had come only a week earlier. A good thing, since as soon as the physical therapist allowed him back up, he was going to be walking on crutches again. He _did not_ want a wheelchair.

"Our parents are coming in an hour." Luke said. "Are you going to stay awake and meet them? Or do we have to tell them that you're sleeping through Christmas?"

"I'm awake now, aren't I?" Alex asked. "I think I can manage a few hours."

Ben smirked at him. "You are, for now. Ten minutes of quiet though, and you're out like a light."

"Ferme-la." _Shut up_.

Ben rolled his eyes.

"I have to eat sometime, don't I? I can't sleep _all_ the time." True, he hadn't been eating much of anything over the past few days, but that was all irrelevant. Right now, just the _thought_ of food sounded good, even if it was bland hospital food.

"Does that mean I can finally have some sunlight on my side of the room again?" Luke asked.

Ben just laughed, and didn't even bother to wait for Alex's answer, before pulling the curtain to the side. Luke grinned too, walked back over to his bed, and carefully sat down. He definitely had more movement in his arms, but it seemed getting up and down was quite the chore. Luke was certainly adapting to his problems...

Alex repressed a sigh. His problems weren't so easy _now_...

* * *

><p>A small breakfast, some playful banter between Ben and Luke, and an hour-long nap later, Alex came back to the land of the living once more. Ben—once again reading the book gadget—sent him an amused glance once he realized Alex was awake, and then nodded toward Luke, who was also taking advantage of the quiet, and sleeping.<p>

Alex nibbled on the last bits of his breakfast that he had been too tired to finish eating earlier, and glanced through the latest update that Ben had brought in. There wasn't very much... Actually there was. There were a few assassinations in Cardiff, Manchester, Edinburgh, Norwich, and London—mostly criminals and turned businessmen—and while that sounded like lot, there were plenty of failed attempts as well. Those were just the highest profile cases though. Not even high enough that the general population really knew about it.

The unfortunate fact was that SCORPIA only claimed a third of the hits, so it was impossible to tie them all to one operation. If the report was anything to go by, _s__omeone_ was becoming more active, and they were slowly picking off people. Some in the government, others in the criminal underworld. But _why_?

Pondering over the latest development, Alex pushed himself up into a fully sitting position again. He stretched his back, stiff from lying in bed for days on end. He was glad that the worst of the side effects from the seizure seemed to have finally worn off, and that he was feeling more like himself. More alive.

He pulled his uninjured knee up to his chest, and leaned against it. Ben had gone back to reading his book, and Alex couldn't quite tell if he was reading reports, or if he was actually reading the book for once. The fact that Ben was around all day, every day, was somewhat strange to think about, and gave the impression that he really didn't have anything better to do while he was on leave.

Alex wondered just _why_ Ben was on leave, especially when it seemed that there were plenty of things going on around the country. It would be the one time that leave wouldn't be handed out. Especially not _forced_ leave. But then, maybe that was one of the changes that Mrs. Jones had implemented. Strange to think that something good might have come from it... it gave Alex a semblance of protection.

Ben glanced up and caught Alex's gaze. "Watch out Alec, you're starting to look a little more human. Can't have Luke thinking you can actually act like a normal person, now can we?"

Alex grinned, and rested his chin on his knee. He almost _felt_ normal. He doubted the feeling would stick around for very long, but it was almost... peaceful. He didn't feel like he needed to worry about anything, even after reading about all the things going on in the country.

He glanced around the room, taking in the little details. There was a cheery looking tree standing just across from Luke's bed—plastic, of course. He didn't remember seeing it there before. It was dressed up for the holiday, despite the fact that it clearly _wasn't_ a pine tree. It was the thought that counted though, right?

Maybe it was the festive air getting to him that was making him feel so _normal_...

Ben flipped another page in his book, seeming engrossed in what he was reading. Alex smirked as he glanced over the title once more. _'Britain's Most Powerful: A Study of the Heads of Defense.'_ It seemed like the type of book that a spy would read, just to see how much they got wrong. "Hey Ben, that book. Interesting at all?"

"It was..." Ben glanced over to make sure Luke was still sleeping. "When I read it six months ago. You'd be amazed at what they got wrong. Of course, it _is_ outdated by a year or so. Changes move fast in _that_ world."

Alex nodded knowingly. "So, reports then?" He didn't quite understand Ben's obsession with the reports, since it seemed like they never held anything interesting. They never explained anything. All it did was raise more questions.

"Yep. Different reports from what I've been showing you though." Ben lowered his voice, and scooted the chair slightly closer. "They're still investigating the airport bombing. It hit close to home for a lot of people in the department, so there's a lot of work going into it. Unfortunately, they haven't found much of anything in the last month or so, around the same time that these other attacks started. Workers are stretched thin right now."

_That_ didn't make any sense. If MI6 was running short on workers, then why was Ben on leave? Didn't it seem counterproductive to send workers off on _two months_ of leave, when they needed everyone they could get?

Ben caught his look. "They're rotating the leave schedule. It's hard for people to work a case normally when they're dealing with loss." Ben looked back down at his book, an uncomfortable look on his face. "Forced leave for everyone that lost someone. The bombing killed a lot of people. Family members, partners..." He trailed off, lost in thought, and seemed to forget that Alex was there.

_Partners_. And Ben had said _specifically_ that he was on forced leave... Perhaps the bombing had hit closer to home for Ben than Alex had imagined. Maybe the reason he was so obsessed with the reports and finding the culprit wasn't because it was his job, but because he felt an _obligation_ to his ex-partner. Alex fell silent, and after a few more minutes, it was clear that Ben had returned to reading his book. Reading his reports.

Alex slumped back onto his pillows again, bored with having nothing better to do. Even taking another nap didn't sound like any fun. He flipped through the book Ben had given him, Sherlock Holmes in French. With nothing better to do, he started reading.

* * *

><p>Over the next hour, Alex read a number of Sherlock stories, waiting for something interesting to happen. Luke had woken up half an hour earlier and had started grumbling to Ben that their parents were late. Neither of them seemed too surprised by that, so Alex could only assume that it was fairly normal for them to be late.<p>

The festive feel to the air hadn't worn off at all and—Alex was loath to admit it—he was almost happy in the hospital. Not that he was injured, but the simple fact that it brought him around other—friendly—people during the holiday season. His holiday would have been very different, if the SCORPIA agent hadn't shown up. He probably would have been at the bar late, working one or both days... This was, in a way, better than working right through the holiday.

Around mid-morning, the Daniels' arrived. That in itself was a bit of a surprise for Alex. He had unknowingly created a mental picture of them, based on the hereditary traits that Ben and Luke shared. His mental picture was immediately shattered, and the only thing he could think was, _really?_

Mrs. Daniels—for that's who she had to be—was a small Asian woman. Her dark hair had streaks of grey going through it, and she was dwarfed both by her husband and Ben. Alex had no doubt that Luke would be head and shoulders above her as well.

Luke's face screwed up into a slight grimace as Mrs. Daniels gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek. Alex had to smother a laugh at Luke's put out expression.

Mr. Daniels was the complete opposite of his wife, and yet still quite different from his sons. He was tall, taller than Ben, but his skin was as dark as theirs was light. It was quite the combination to make a family.

Ben caught Alex's surprised gaze and rolled his eyes. _Didn't expect that,__ did you?_ He mouthed.

Alex shook his head slowly. No, he most definitely had not.

Luke glanced over at Alex, and pretended to do a double take when he saw Alex was awake. "Would you look at that? You're actually awake for once."

Alex just shrugged slightly, suddenly feeling like he was under the spotlight. Would he really be able to keep this up all day? Sure, he did it all the time with Luke, but he wasn't really expecting anything. Would the Daniels' figure out his _flaw_?

"Mum, Dad, meet my ever present—almost always sleeping—roommate, Alec." Luke winked at him. "Alec, my parents."

_And he really doesn't look anything like them... _Alex bit back a laugh, and didn't have to force a smile. The two parents seemed friendly and happy. "Bonjour, Monsieur et Madame Daniels." He had regained his accent, after a sufficient amount of sleep, and it was perfect once more. He wondered if either of the Daniels knew French...

Ben rolled his eyes at Alex. "Did we mention he's from France?"

Mr. Daniels smiled, and walked over to shake Alex's free hand. "Obviously so." His voice was a deep bass, and Alex couldn't help but find all the _differences_ between the family members. "It's a pleasure to meet you Alec."

Mrs. Daniels smiled from where she was sitting next to Luke on the bed. "We heard a lot about you when we were here last week. It's nice to find that Luke has someone his age while he's stuck here."

Alex raised an eyebrow at Ben and Luke. Ben shrugged, but Luke seemed determined not to make eye contact. Alex had to keep himself from grinning. _Luke's ag__e..._ he was older by at least three or four years.

"Have you lived in the area long?" Mr. Daniels asked.

Alex shook his head. "I just moved in this year, but I grew up just outside of Paris."

"Paris?" Mrs. Daniels asked. "We were there once. Beautiful city..."

Surprisingly, Alex didn't find it hard to talk with the Daniels. No one seemed to question the fact that he and Ben knew each other—perhaps Ben had explained that before... For all their differences though, they were a happy family. Mr. Daniels worked at one of the large banks in Liverpool—Ben assured Alex with a glance that this was not connected to _the bank_—and Mrs. Daniels owned a shop in Chinatown.

"Trinkets, gifts, that sort of stuff. Mostly for the tourists, if you know what I mean." Mrs. Daniels said. "The shop itself has been in the family for over a hundred years. Unfortunately..." She sent an exasperated glance at her two sons. "Neither of my two boys wanted to take over."

"Can you _see_ me fitting in, in Chinatown?" Luke asked. "Helping out in the shop when you're a kid is fine. There just a small problem when everyone suddenly realized that I don't even _look_ Chinese."

Mrs. Daniels patted him on the head. "I know, I know." She grinned at Alex. "They're both quite stubborn about not owning the place... so it seems it has to go to a nephew. Shame..."

Alex grinned at the thought of Ben masquerading as a Chinese person sometime, but failing because he was so tall. It was perfect reasoning _not_ to work there...

Despite the fact that Alex had determined he was going to stay awake the whole day, sometime after they had had their lunch, he found himself drifting in and out of sleep. He wasn't exhausted, per say, just tired enough to lose focus of a conversation and not feel like putting in the effort to pick up the train of thought again.

The Daniels decided to take a walk in the middle of the afternoon, and Alex almost suspected that it was to give him some quiet. It wasn't hard to notice that he was falling asleep. Ben sent him an almost apologetic look, before trailing after his family. Alex wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but he didn't care at the moment. He was asleep almost as soon as the room was quiet again.

* * *

><p>"The parents were a bit of a surprise, weren't they?" Ben seemed to know that Alex was awake, before he even realized it himself.<p>

Alex made a noncommittal sound, before attempting to roll onto his side. He stopped half way through the motion, figuring from the twinge in his side, that it would probably just hurt.

"You were surprised, don't try to deny it." Ben was teasing him.

Alex opened his eyes, not too surprised to find that the room was empty aside from himself and Ben. It was dark outside, much later than it had been when he had fallen asleep. "Well... I wasn't exactly expecting them to not look a thing like the two of you, that's for sure."

Ben grinned at him. "Exactly. No one ever expects it."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that you weren't born with the last name of _'Daniels'_."

"Nope."

"But you and Luke look the same."

"Oh, we're biological brothers. He was just a baby when our parents died. The Daniels' took us in a couple months later. It's probably one of the oddest family mixes you'll ever see."

Alex stared at Ben. That was rather... forthcoming for him. "I never would have guessed." He glanced around the room, once again taking in the emptiness. "I presume you're here for a reason?"

Ben nodded and the teasing look immediately vanished. "I was talking with your doctor yesterday, and he said that you could be released in a few days—as long as you don't have another seizure. Luke's looking to get out soon as well. There's only the small fact that you're not ready to live on your own again."

Alex's heart sank. He had been _hoping_ that somehow Ben had missed that small piece of information. He had no wish to go to some recovery facility for the next who knew how many months. For one thing, staying in one—public-ish—place for so long was really getting on his nerves. As easy as it had been for Ben to find him, Alex knew that any other MI6 or SCORPIA agent could stumble across him just as easily.

"And this is why I had to wait until Luke was gone. You've got to figure out what you're doing, Alex. There's no way you can manage the stairs at your flat, not to mention getting to and from your appointments. And what if someone found you? You wouldn't be able to protect yourself."

Alex almost growled at Ben for that oh-so-helpful reminder. He _knew_ going on his own was risky. He _knew_ that his old flat wouldn't work well. He _knew_ that keeping up with the physical therapy appointments while he was still exhausted would be nigh impossible. "There isn't much choice is there? Either I go to that recovery place, or I'm stuck on my own."

Ben raised an eyebrow at Alex, a smirk just barely visible. "I can think of another option..."

* * *

><p>"Ah, home sweet home." Ben waved his hand around the flat like a seller showing his wares. Alex just settled for scowling at him. "Oh, stop that Alex. It's better that you actually have someone looking out for you. This is better than a recovery center, I assure you."<p>

Alex continued scowling, but looked around the new flat he was going to call home. At least, for the next couple months. Until he could convince Ben—and his doctors—that he was capable of living by himself. Ben's argument had basically boiled down to three things. One, there were no stairs to the flat, a necessity, since Alex was still trying to get used to walking around on crutches. Two, there was a simple and easy way to any of his appointments—Ben was still on leave _and_ he had a car. And three, in the highly unlikely off chance that someone from Alex's past came calling, he'd at least have a semblance of protection, and the knowledge that if he checked in enough drawers, he'd eventually find a gun.

The hospital had essentially released him into Ben's protection, though they didn't actually realize that...

While his seizures seemed to be under control for the moment, there was no real way to predict when the next one might come. Hopefully never, as long as the medicines kept working. Since he was still recovering from the surgery though, _if_ anything happened, there would at least be someone nearby.

Not that he hadn't moved in with Ben without a fight. Luke had left the day before, opening the room up for a rather heated argument between Alex and Ben, which had included Alex acting like the teenager he was. He had _unwisely_ flaunted his lack of self-preservation, and had just about pushed Ben over the edge.

After that revelation, Ben had sworn fluently in five different languages for almost ten minutes, before calming down enough to continue civilized conversation. He hadn't just been annoyed; he had seemed frustrated that Alex couldn't seem to understand _something_. In the end, obviously, Ben had won—with some adamant siding from the doctors.

In all honesty, Alex was _somewhat_ glad that he wouldn't be on his own right away. Once the crutches were gone, _that_ was when he was going to really start itching for release, but the doctor had insisted that he wait at least two months from the date of his last seizure. Safety precautions.

"The spare room's at the end of the hall." Ben said, redirecting Alex's attention. "The bathroom's next to it and my room's directly across." He nodded toward one of the archways from the living room. "Kitchen's through there, obviously."

Alex went down the hall, and nudged the door open with one of his crutches. The room was small, but he expected as much in a flat. There was a bed pressed up against one of the walls, a bedside table, chest of drawers, and a desk. Not too much, but more than enough for him. At least there was plenty of room to move around in.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, subconsciously testing the springiness, and let out a long sigh. It all felt so... _normal_. Too normal. He had to give credit to Ben, the man had certainly tried hard enough to convince him, claiming that Alex would recover better once he was in a normal house—or flat. It just felt so _strange_.

After so many months hiding in the depths of London, doing anything and everything to keep away from MI6, SCORPIA, and the memories, it seemed rather counterintuitive to live with someone who was from that world. To live with someone who knew more about his reluctant past than anyone else.

Ben leaned in the doorway, glancing around the room. "It's not much... but it's a space to call your own. Luke was staying here before his accident, so don't be surprised if you randomly find a textbook or two lying around. I think we got all of them though." He sent Alex a grin, which Alex halfheartedly returned. "Is there anything you want from your flat? Take care of the rent for the next couple of months? I have to go out anyway."

_Only temporary_, Alex reminded himself. Soon enough he'd find himself back in his own flat. Besides, he had told the landlord that he'd be renting for at least six months. "Paying the rent would probably be a good idea. My clothes too, I guess. There's not much else there." _Well, the money..._ Other than the clothes and money though, he hadn't really owned anything else. He hadn't spent much time in the flat aside from sleeping.

Ben smirked. "So basically, anything I find there, you'd like?"

Of course, Ben _had_ been in there already, so he probably knew about _some_ of the money hidden around the flat. "Yeah. Um... underneath the sink in the kitchen, there are some... _important documents_. Passports, ID cards, whatnot. Money too. Should probably make sure those are safe."

Ben raised an eyebrow, seeming to notice the plural form of _passports_. "Okay... I don't suppose you have a key somewhere... Picking locks is not one of my strong points."

Alex grinned, trying to imagine Ben awkwardly fumbling with lock picking tools. "There's a postbox, just before you go up the stairs. Number 24. The bottom has a trap door, slide it to the left, and you'll find a spare."

"You planned for anything, didn't you?"

Alex shrugged. "I never knew what my day was going to be like." He had been ready for leaving the flat with only a moment's notice. And for breaking back in, if his key mysteriously went missing... he had made it a habit not to carry his key when he was in the pub and routinely stashed his in an alley five blocks away from his flat.

Ben chuckled. "Well, feel free to wander the flat. There's not too much, as far as food goes, right now, but I'll pick up some groceries while I'm out." He dug into one of his pockets, and tossed Alex's iPod. "I got that out of your flat the other day. Would have given it to you earlier, but Luke would have gotten suspicious. No visitors for you—aside from me—well... he might seem a little slow on the uptake at times, but he can really put things together remarkably fast."

A smile graced Alex's face for a moment, before he examined the iPod. There were plenty of nifty little apps on it, courtesy of Smithers, that would make his days not quite so boring... Not to mention the biometric lock that prevented anyone else from accessing anything on it. Even if Ben had tried, he wouldn't have been able to get through the security system.

"Smithers work?" Ben asked.

"You tried to get in?" Alec couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed that Ben had tried to go through something personal.

Ben smirked. "No. There weren't any other electronics in the flat, and it instantly screamed _Smithers_. There's no way I'm messing with something of his without knowing what it does first. For all I know, it could explode in my hand if I so much as shook it wrong."

Alex nodded. It made sense. "Biometric lock. Won't explode, but you couldn't get in if you wanted to. Pressure sensitive, responds to subtle changes in pulse, and a whole bunch of other factors that I don't remember anymore."

"When'd you get it?"

Alex smile immediately vanished. "Going away gift." He _did not_ want to think about it.

Ben nodded, and thankfully, he turned the conversation in a different direction. "I'll get your stuff then. Payment to the landlord, right?"

"Yeah."

Alex stayed in the room, starting up the iPod for the first time it almost a month. After a few minutes, he heard the door to the flat shut, and knew that he was alone. Finally alone for the first time in what seemed like days. Weeks, really. While he doubted that Ben would still betray him—he trusted Ben almost completely now—it would be so _sim__ple_ for someone from MI6 to accidentally come across him. Though what MI6 would do with him now... there was no way he could spy anymore. No way at all, even if he had—for some bizarre reason—wanted to when he got older. No longer an option.

Because of that, he really didn't need to _worry_ about MI6 finding him. _If_ they found him, the worst they could do was send him back. Back to the family he didn't want to be a part of. They just didn't understand, and nothing was going to change that. Really, the only group he needed to worry about now was SCORPIA. They wouldn't care about the seizures. They'd just _exploit_ the weakness.

Alex shuddered at the thought, before taking a long calming breath. He was sure he was safe as long as MI6 didn't know he was alive. Then there was no way a double agent could somehow find him again. For the moment, he was safe with Ben.

With a sigh, he carefully stood up, making sure to keep all the weight off his leg and knee like his physical therapist had shown him. If he put _any_ weight on it, the doctors—and Ben—would have his head. Being extra careful, he started to explore the flat.

Overall, the flat was bigger than Alex's was. The kitchen had enough room to move around in, but only barely with Alex's crutches. He couldn't see walking around in there at the same time as Ben. In the living room, he found a few personal effects, family pictures, trinkets from Ben's travels, but nothing too descriptive. It was impossible to tell from looking at it that Ben was a spy. Only one picture connected him to the military at all, and that was a picture of his unit. _K-unit_.

Alex grimaced, seeing the familiar faces of the men who had made _hell_—otherwise known as Brecon Beacons—even more... _hellish_. It had all been before his first mission... Fox, now known as Ben, had been there when Alex had been shoved onto the unsuspecting unit. They were all less than grateful to have a _rich brat_ thrown in with them, and had all tried to make his life as hard as possible.

Even Ben had given him the cold shoulder those two weeks. It wasn't until after Ben joined MI6, and came across Alex in Bangkok that Alex had even _somewhat_ trusted him. Only over the past week had Alex truly come to accept him. Accept him as one of the few people that were honestly trying to help him out.

He continued wandering around the flat, skipping Ben's room, since the door was shut. There really wasn't much to see. He took a glance in the mirror in the bathroom, seeing the fading red marks from the cuts and scrapes on his face. The bruises were fading as well, and he knew that the bruises must've been pretty bad in the first place to still be somewhat visible.

His hair was starting to grow out again, and the blonde hair he used to see on a regular basis was starting to become visible again. Not too much, thankfully, but he knew he needed to re-dye his hair again, before it became too noticeable.

Having exhausted all the exploring—there really wasn't much to find—Alex went back to his new room and lied down. Just the time he had spent up and walking around had exhausted his small reserve of energy. He could only manage to do so much after spending nearly three weeks on bed rest. The doctor had said that the worst would pass in a week or two, as he readjusted.

The thing was—he didn't want to have to wait the week or two for his energy to come back.

He didn't want to have to wait the two weeks to get the brace on his arm off for good.

He didn't want to have to wait the next month and a half before he could walk without the crutches.

He didn't want to have to wait the next two months—to have to hope and pray that he didn't have another seizure—before he could live on his own again.

He didn't want to wait.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Whew. That was reaaaaaaaaaally long. I think it's the longest chapter I've _ever_ written... I know, I probably should have cut into two chapters (or three, or four...), but I really wanted to get Alex out of the hospital. It's been a long time in coming... and I really think there isn't much more the hospital can do for him, except maybe provide a stronger painkiller. So yeah, he's out, and only partially happy that he's stuck with Ben.**

**Good feelings aside, it's April. Which means it's the start of Script Frenzy. Never heard of it? Google it. It's a lot like NaNoWriMo. Never heard of that? Google it. They're both amazing, and I'm doing SF again this year, so I _highly_ doubt that I'll be posting twice a week and instead just look for Sunday updates. That said, if I hit my goal of 100 pages early, I'll make sure to upload another chapter here as a reward :D**

**The reviews are _lovely_. I grin every time my e-mail tells me I have another review. Keep them coming!**

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	16. Masks

****Disclaimer:**** _When Stormbreaker was released *cough*nearly twelve years ago*cough*, I think I was a bit too young to be writing full length novels. Do the math. This ain't mine.  
><em>

**_Previously..._**

_Having exhausted all the exploring—there really wasn't much to find—Alex went back to his new room and lied down. Just the time he had spent up and walking around had exhausted his small reserve of energy. He could only manage to do so much after spending nearly three weeks on bed rest. The doctor had said that the worst would pass in a week or two, as he readjusted._

_The thing was—he didn't want to have to wait the week or two for his energy to come back._

_He didn't want to have to wait the two weeks to get the brace on his arm off for good._

_He didn't want to have to wait the next month and a half before he could walk without the crutches._

_He didn't want to have to wait the next two months—to have to hope and pray that he didn't have another seizure—before he could live on his own again._

_He didn't want to wait._

**CHAPTER 16: ****Masks**

* * *

><p>Ben left Alex alone in his flat. While he wasn't quite sure if it was the best course of action, Alex deserved some time alone. Some time to adjust. Ben doubted that he would have adapted to the same problems as well as Alex seemed to be. Or pretended to adapt. He had a talent for hiding whatever he was really feeling, that was for sure.<p>

Ben took a few minutes to stop at a store to get some real food, before heading over to Alex's place. It was mildly annoying that Alex had had a spare key lying around, and hadn't bothered to tell him when he had to _break in_ the first time. But then, he probably hadn't been planning to let Ben actually _in_ to his life. Things had definitely changed.

The key was exactly where it was supposed to be, right underneath the sneaky little trap door in the bottom of his postbox. There were a few letters in the box, mainly from the landlord, further disguising the trap. Ben found it within a moment, and was soon trekking up the stairs to the flat.

Once again, there was a note on the door, from the landlord, reminding Alex that rent was due soon. Ben took it down, wondering if anyone else in the building noticed that the occupant had been absent for such a prolonged amount of time. Probably not.

The inside was as undisturbed as Ben had left it weeks earlier, suggesting that not even Alex's coworkers knew where he lived. It was probably the only place he had been able to relax, without having to worry about keeping up some sort of façade.

Deciding that systematically would be the best way to tackle the flat, Ben started in the living room. Something told him that if he wanted to find _most_—because he certainly wouldn't find _all_—of Alex's things, it wasn't going to be a quick job. Alex had been almost paranoid, just barely on the sane side of the tipping point. Nothing was going to be easy to find.

There wasn't much in the living room. Just a small box that held a few pounds, placed in the hollowed out seat of the one and only comfortable looking chair, and a couple of still crisp books lying on a small table in the corner. The books covers had never even been opened. There was a false bottom in the drawer in the table, but it didn't hold anything. Perhaps it was a deterrent for the not-so-casual burglar.

In the kitchen, Ben found more of what he was expecting. Three of the drawers beside the sink had false bottoms, and held a substantial amount of coins and notes. Inside one of the cupboards was a set of unused mugs, hiding a small alcove, once again filled with pounds. And underneath the sink, as promised, there was a large envelope hidden underneath a false bottom. _When_ Alex had had the copious amounts of time to install all hiding places, Ben wasn't quite sure. There was also a false covering over one of the pipes leading from the sink, and came away to reveal a couple of bundles of euros wrapping the pipe. _Creative_...

Ben opened the large envelope and dumped the contents out on the table. He raised his eyebrows slightly at the contents. _Passports_. Plural. Two to be exact. There were also a handful of random ID cards. It seemed that Alex could disappear into three different aliases. Two of the cards, and one passport, were registered to his real name. One card was for a school—_'Brooklands'_ in Chelsea—and the other, for a bank somewhere in California.

If Alex's passport was anything to go by though... he was still over two months away from his sixteenth birthday. Ben wasn't quite sure if he even trusted _that_.

Ben didn't discover much of interest in the bedroom, having already combed through the majority of it. The one surprise he found was the small, wired telephone hidden in the depths of Alex's closet. It was almost like he had just thrown it in there, determined not to use or see it...

There was a duffel bag in the bottom of the closet, so Ben started sorting through the clothes. While the clothes weren't in the greatest condition, they would do. He doubted that Alex would be going out anywhere—except for doctor and physical therapist appointments—so he chose what looked to be the most comfortable.

Once the bedroom was nearly bare, Ben took the things he had gathered and placed them on the kitchen counter with the rest of the money and identification documents. A quick skim through the bathroom brought out more money _and_ the box of hair dye. Something told him that Alex was going to want to re-dye his hair soon. With everything laid out neatly on the kitchen counter, Ben absentmindedly counted the money Alex had hidden away. When he reached the last of it, he couldn't help but think he made a mistake, and went back and counted it again.

_£1,280_. And over two hundred euros...

He _knew_ that Alex had been working consistently since the beginning of September, that much had come up during one of their conversations, and it seemed that he had always had enough to pay off his rent... But Ben hadn't expected that there would be so much left over after taking out rent, food, and any other miscellaneous expenses.

Knowing that staring at the money wouldn't answer any questions, he neatly stacked everything together and added it to the duffel bag. Once he had everything, he turned the lights off and made sure the door was locked securely. He put the rent for the landlord, for the next two months, into the post box on the way out.

No one would know that the flat renter was still gone.

* * *

><p>Ben headed back to his own flat, and wasn't too surprised to find Alex sleeping again. It had taken him longer to get everything together at Alex's flat longer than he had thought it would. The doctors had also said that Alex was bound to be exhausted after finally getting his feet back under him. Supposedly, he would start to get more energy back with the more days he put between himself and the seizure.<p>

Even though the last one had been a couple days before Christmas—five days now—Ben had a feeling that it still affected Alex. If not physically, then mentally. As independent as Alex had grown over the past few months, in the matter of weeks—no—in the matter of a few _days_, it had all been turned upside down. Alex's apparent disregard for his own personal safety seemed to come from the fact that he didn't _care_ what happened anymore. Everything had essentially gone to hell for him. Permanently.

Taking care not to make too much noise, Ben set about making supper. His mum had made sure both he and Luke knew how to cook, years and years ago, both traditional Chinese foods, as well as quick and simple meals. For now though, he went with something that was almost as easy as boiling water. Spaghetti. After nearly a month of hospital food, Alex deserved a good meal for once.

By the time the food was ready, Ben figured that Alex had slept long enough if he was planning to get any sleep that night. Minus the small fact that he seemed to be capable of falling asleep anytime, anywhere...

He shook Alex awake, and earned himself a particularly hard hit to the chest from the still sleeping Alex. Ben was still rubbing his chest—and keeping the distance between Alex and himself—when Alex finally became aware of the world around him.

"Sorry..." Alex muttered, rubbing at his eyes. "Defensive. Don't like people waking me up." There was something particularly off about his appearance, but Ben couldn't put his finger on what. Alex seemed... _disturbed_. Perhaps even slightly fearful.

"No kidding." Ben smirked slightly, trying to take the edge off the coolness that had descended on the room. "Well, come on. Supper's ready, and it's no good if it's cold." He turned away, but barely caught sight of Alex's sleepy look, transform into a grimace. He headed out of the room, and soon heard the creak of the bed as Alex got up. The rhythmic thud of the crutches also foretold his coming. Between the crutches and the currently locked brace, mobility wasn't exactly the easiest for Alex. All the more reason Ben was glad that he had won the _fight_ of persuasion.

"You can cook?" Alex asked, awkwardly taking a seat at the small table. His nonchalance seemed rather forced, and Ben wondered if being woken up had really unnerved him that much. Maybe he just wasn't used to someone else being around while he was sleeping... but he should have gotten used to that while he was in the hospital.

For Alex's sake though, Ben pretended not to notice anything strange, and instead grinned slightly. "What? You think I live on carryout? Especially when half that stuff is the worst Chinese I've ever had?" He snorted. "My mum made sure Luke and I could cook by the time we were both eight. Besides, homemade tastes _far_ better than carryout most of the time."

Alex nodded slightly. "You've got a point."

Ben put a plate full of food down in front of Alex, along with the medicines he needed to take. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex hesitate for a moment, before taking the medicine. Alex was definitely acting wary.

Ben sat down with his own plate of food, across from Alex. "So, can you cook?"

Alex shrugged. "Some. Nothing fancy, but enough to get by with."

Ben nodded once, before going quiet. Neither said very much while they ate, each content with their own thoughts. Whatever Alex's thoughts were... Ben discretely watched Alex while they ate, trying to figure him out. Something had caused Alex to sink into a slightly depressed mood over the afternoon, and Ben wondered if that was because everything was finally starting to hit home. He wasn't on his own. He was stuck with _someone_. Ben had no doubt how Alex could—would—be viewing it in his head.

Alex had eaten about half the food on his plate, before he started pushing it around disinterestedly, reminding Ben of a five year old that didn't want to eat his vegetables. He quickly suppressed the grin that threatened to break out at the mental image, knowing that Alex's reaction to the comparison would be... less than amusing.

Ben finished his own food, and wasn't too surprised to find that Alex hadn't eating much more. He made a mental note to give smaller portions the next time. "Are you done?" Ben asked, standing up and taking his plate off the table.

Alex glanced up and nodded, before staring back down at the table again.

"Want something to drink? Water? Milk? Tea? Coffee?"

"Tea."

Ben smothered another smile, remembering the box of tealeaves he had found on Alex's counter. Definitely a regular tea drinker... Ben went about making the tea, and soon enough Alex had a cup in his hand that he really didn't seem to be paying attention to.

"So..." Ben wasn't quite sure how to phrase it. He had been wanting answers from Alex for the past few weeks, but he didn't want to sound like he was prying. He was just curious. "Do you mind telling me about what you were up to in the months after the bombing?"

Alex's head snapped up to stare at Ben for a moment, before he stared back down at the table. Some unreadable emotion flittered across his face, before he shrugged.

He figured he should start with an easy question. "How'd you get your alias, _Alec Pierre_?" _Easy-ish..._

A smirk crossed Alex's face, and Ben wondered if he was going to get some well-spun lies thrown his way. Probably. He didn't think that it would be _all_ lies though. Maybe just, _mostly_.

"The usual way." Alex said.

Ben rolled his eyes. "I take it MI6 didn't know about _him_."

"No..." Alex shrugged again. "I had... a contact."

Ben nodded. _That_ much had been clear, and he could think of a few people in the city that did that kind of work. He _was_ slightly surprised that Alex knew who they were though. If MI6 had been trying to keep him on a leash, Ben doubted that they would have knowingly let Alex come into contact with one of the forgers. "Takes a lot of money to get an authentic looking passport and ID..." He trailed off, looking for any sign of reaction from Alex. "Especially when you need that deep of a background history on it. It had to pass whatever checks your job ran on it."

"I had the money before I left."

It wasn't said defensive in any way, but there was just something _off_ about his inflection. Like he was hiding something. He was hiding something... perhaps the _method_ he had used to get access to the money in the first place. Maybe he wasn't proud of it. Or perhaps he had run out of money _after_ he had his alias, and didn't want Ben to know that he had been practically living off the streets for who knew how long. Ben pushed aside his musing, knowing that whatever the case, Alex wasn't likely to answer _those_ questions.

There was, of course, the biggest question. How Alex had survived the bombing... Techs from both MI6 and the CIA had gone over the footage. Clear footage of him boarding the plane in New York. Was it more than a coincidence that the plane Alex should have been on, was the one that had exploded in the terminal? Had someone known his plans and been targeting him, and it had been merely a fluke that he survived? Somehow though, Ben doubted that _anyone_ had known about Alex's plans, much less a terrorist organization that wanted him dead. Certainly, they had more important thing than trying to follow a teenager merely for the sake of revenge...

"So... how old are you, anyway?" Ben knew from what he had seen on the passport, but he wasn't a hundred percent sure that he could trust it. If Alex really was only fifteen, it meant that he had been at Brecon Beacons when he was just barely fourteen. Nearly two years below the minimum recruitment age for the army... it _had_ to be illegal.

Alex stared at the table, then stared at Ben, and then stared at the table again. "Fifteen."

The remainder of the sentence was unsaid, but it came across loud and clear to Ben. _Old__ enough to be on my own._ There was no doubt that the confines of the hospital, and now the flat, were in a sense like prison. He wasn't well enough to be on his own though, and Alex hated that.

"Fifteen..." It was hard to believe, but true. "And you passed for eighteen for four months? Didn't your boss ever ask questions?"

Alex glared at the table. "No."

"Where'd you work, anyway?"

Alex turned his gaze to Ben, annoyance shimmering in his eyes. "A shop on Oxford Street." His lips pressed into a thin line. "You know, the best place to hide is in the middle of a crowd. Besides, I didn't have to worry about accidentally running into anyone there."

Ben fixed him with a curious stare. What Alex was saying didn't fit with what he had seen in the flat. Had the little reminders of normal been merely a ruse, to throw anyone looking for him off track? "You had shift reminders in your flat. For a pub. And somehow, I highly doubt that you got a job at a pub on Oxford Street. Isn't there like, only one?"

Alex blinked slowly, seeming completely unconcerned. "I didn't work at a pub. Well... not recently. I did the first few weeks, until I could get a more permanent job." He shrugged slightly. "I left the notes up in my flat, in case someone tried to follow me back. I didn't exactly have hours to spend running around London dropping tails, just so you know. If someone followed me to my flat, and then broke in while I was out, do you _think_ I would actually leave something that they could use to follow me? It was to throw them off the trail. Then I'd at least have a head start to disappear."

Ben couldn't shake the feeling that what Alex was telling him was almost completely lies. The question was _why_? "What shop did you work in? I heard it can be pretty hard to get a job on Oxford Street."

"A souvenir shop." Alex started to get up, clearly done with the questioning. "Look, I didn't come here so you could satisfy your curiosity. I came here because I didn't have a choice. This was the lesser of two evils." His voice was oddly cool, as if Ben's questions were nothing more than a slight annoyance. Completely at odds with what he was currently saying. "I don't want to be here and I'm leaving the _moment_ I can. Just... let me have my space."

Ben stared at him, wondering what had changed. Some switch seemed to have flipped, and in a matter of hours, Alex had closed off completely. "Wait... one more question. Last one, I promise. I won't ask any more."

Alex hesitated and glanced at Ben. "Last one." He seemed thrown off balance slightly, by the simple request.

"How did you survive the bombing?" Ben leaned onto his forearms, watching Alex closely for any clues he might unknowingly give away. "They have clear footage of you boarding the plane in New York. The bomb decimated everything, so you couldn't have just run from the plane."

Alex tilted his head curiously, and a sharp, bitter laughed escaped him. "Waste of a last question, Ben. Escaping _that_ was easy. _I_ didn't fly to London." He turned his back on Ben, a small smirk still on his face, and headed back to his room.

Ben stared after him, trying to pick out the small clues that Alex had inadvertently given him. There wasn't much, aside from his last answer, when he had actually let some emotion slip through. He had showed blatant disregard for surviving the bombing—by simply _not_ going on the plane. And confidence that he didn't have to worry about someone figuring out his trick for going unnoticed. Perhaps it wasn't such a secret...

Alex was a _very_ curious individual, and had certainly made it clear that he was only staying in the area until he was healed enough that he could leave again. Reckless in a sense, not really caring that for once in his life he actually _needed_ someone around. _Needed_ someone to keep him from inadvertently hurting himself. The seizures could be unpredictable. Literally _anything_ could set one off, _anywhere_.

Ben had to admit though; Alex certainly knew how to adapt. He had only lived in California for a matter of weeks before leaving. _Disappearing__._ Five weeks, that's what Mrs. Jones had said. Five weeks, and most likely, Alex hadn't been planning _all_ those weeks. He hadn't gone there with the intent to leave the family as soon as he saw an opening. He had gone there, Mrs. Jones had said, to escape the world itself. To escape the people who were slowly, and methodically, destroying his life.

Then, he had escaped to another world, completely changing his looks, identity, and possibly his attitude, just for the sake of pretending to fit in. Even months later, he had switched _again_; this time to be the person that the others in the hospital expected him to be. The quiet foreign patient, who seemed to have been dealt an extremely bad hand in life, and despite all that, had never been willing to give up his freedom.

Masks, on top of masks, on top of masks, and none of them hid the _real_ Alex Rider. For all appearances, it seemed that that boy had died the moment MI6 started using him. Gone. Forever. Even the person that Ben had met in training was completely different from the one he had met during the Snakehead mission. _Completely_ different from the one he was currently seeing.

There _was_ the one question though. _W__hy_ had Alex left? _Why _had he left what seemed like a perfectly stable household, where he could have had a normal life again? Was he too far gone to _pretend_ to be normal? Too many days and weeks of constantly having to watch over his shoulder, watching for that one person that could be his downfall, that one person that would serve him up to the bad guys on a platter... that one person being the one he had _trusted_.

Ben rubbed a hand over his face, and set about cleaning up the kitchen. Taking Alex in was certainly not going to be a walk in the park. It seemed that the teen was determined to drag his feet the entire way. That wasn't going to put Ben off though—it just strengthened his resolve.

Alex Rider was an enigma, and Ben was going to figure him out, one way or another.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I've completely rewritten this chapter about five or six times, and I'm still not completely happy with it. I'm not quite sure why... I was going to add more, but I've just run out of time over the past few days. *sigh* So I figured I should get this up, before I forget. Unfortunately, all the changing I did to this chapter means I have _a lot_ to change in the next few chapters. Joy.**

**Any questions you might have as far as Alex's reaction to Ben waking him up and the following snarkiness will—_hopefully_—be answered in the next chapter. I realize that he might seem a little out of character (is _that_ what OOC means?), but there are perfectly explainable reasons. You might even be able to figure them out...**

**Thank you all for your reviews! Some of them have really gotten me thinking, and I really appreciate those that have given me suggestions!**

**Oh, and Happy Easter for those of you who celebrate it!  
><strong>

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	17. Fragmented Reality

**Disclaimer:**_ Clearly I can't be Anthony Horowitz, since he'd be getting paid to do (much better) writing like this. And I'm not. Such is life._**  
><strong>

**_Previously_...**

_There _was_ the one question though. _Why_ had Alex left? _Why_ had he left what seemed like a perfectly stable household, where he could have had a normal life again?_ _Was he too far gone to _pretend _to be normal? Too many days and weeks of constantly having to watch over his shoulder, watching for that one person that could be his downfall, that one person that would serve him up to the bad guys on a platter... that one person being the one he had _trusted_._

_Ben rubbed a hand over his face, and set about cleaning up the kitchen. Taking Alex in was certainly not going to be a walk in the park. It seemed that the teen was determined to drag his feet the entire way. That wasn't going to put Ben off though—it just strengthened his resolve._

_Alex Rider was an enigma, and Ben was going to figure him out, one way or another._

**CHAPTER 17: Fragmented Reality**

* * *

><p><em>"They hate you, you know." Julius lazed on a couch that reminded Alex of his house in Chelsea. In a blink, the original living room materialized around him, complete with picture<em>_s__ from his _happy_ life with Jack and Ian. The homey touches, just like he had left it so many months ago. "You ruined their lives, so what does it matter how many people you _saved_? Especially_ her_. You killer _her_."_

_ Alex backed away, running into the wall. "I didn't!" He turned to run, wanting to leave the horrid parody of himself behind. He didn't want to see _him_ anymore. He ran and ran, but the door didn't seem to be getting any closer. He was getting nowhere._

_ "You thought it would be that easy to escape?" Julius laughed behind him. "Run, run, Alex, see where it gets you. You'll join us soon enough. You'll receive your punishment soon enough."_

_ Monsters seemed to appear from the walls, with clubs and knives swinging toward Alex. He ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding the sharp blades, but something large knocked into him, throwing him down to the ground with a crash.  
><em>

_ The club came swinging toward him, coming crashing down. Crashing, crashing—_

* * *

><p>Alex jolted upright, breathing hard. It took him a moment to recognize the room, and realize that he had just been in the middle of another nightmare. He shook off the last vestiges of the nightmare, and fell back on his pillow again. He rolled slightly, to check the time, and let out a groan.<p>

_4:38 am._

Far too early for him to be up. Unfortunately, there was no way he was going to fall back to sleep any time soon, even _if_ he felt tired. Which—thanks to the adrenaline coursing through his system—he really didn't at the moment. It was pointless to even _think_ about it.

The nightmares had been getting progressively worse over the days he had spent living with Ben. A constant reminder of _what_ he had done. Alex doubted that Ben knew about the nightmares, and he planned to keep it that way. The less Ben knew or asked about, the better Alex felt. He wasn't ready to rely on anyone. Just seven more weeks until he could disappear again...

It had seemed that the moment he _pretended_ to have some sort of normalcy, the moment he had tried to relax in Ben's flat—the nightmares came back. The very first time he had fallen asleep in the flat, the afternoon he had gone there, the nightmares were already nudging at the edge of his thoughts. Determined to punish him. Julius was almost always present, taunting Alex for his past _sins_. He _hated_ it. The hours of lost sleep didn't help anything, either.

Ben seemed to have adopted a _'don't ask'_ policy, and let Alex be for the most part. Alex's outburst at dinner the first night seemed to have stemmed the questions, though every now and then, Alex felt Ben watching him. Seeming to try to figure something out.

Alex was wary of him. His questioning had been too much that night, and in turn, Alex had pulled out the same tricks he had used with Kleczka and the pub. He lied his way through everything. In a way, he was amazed that Ben had seemed to swallow the lies. That he hadn't tried to call him out. Only once had he tried, with the question of the papers lying around the flat, but he had seemed to swallow even _that_ explanation. In hindsight, it was an extremely large oversight. He had been too confident in his skills of losing trails. _Anyone_ could have easily found where he worked...

Not that he had to worry about _that_ anymore.

Ben had kept his word though. He didn't ask any more questions, only gave reminders for Alex to take his medicine and to eat more. In return, Alex only asked about the latest updates in the world, mostly pertaining to SCORPIA's movements.

The New Year had started off with a bang, in the most literal sense. Not for England though. France had been targeted by SCORPIA, taking out one of their governmental Ministers—the Minister of Defense—as well as a number of aides to the Minister of Tourism and the Minister of Foreign and European Affairs. All in one fell swoop. Or rather, there were four different attacks, all staged at simultaneous times—including one failed attempt at killing the President of France. It had been a beautiful piece of work—if it hadn't been staged by SCORPIA. Their message was loud and clear though, _no one is safe_.

Aside from the attack on the French though, it seemed that SCORPIA was slowing down their attacks. There hadn't been any more signs of the terrorists since the New Year, and Alex was beginning to wonder what their next move would be. The other terrorist groups, the ones that had been identified at least, had also fallen back. A brief reprieve. The calm, before the storm...

After a week out of the hospital—and the morning after his first truly _violent_ nightmare—Alex had the first appointment with his doctor. Or rather, _doctors_. It had been a rather roundabout day, starting with the surgeon in the morning, the neurologist in the afternoon, and the physical therapist in the evening. While he wasn't exactly thrilled to have to see so many doctors, the neurologist was at least pleased that the medicine was working well. _And_ his physical therapist allowed him some movement in his knee. No walking, yet though...

Alex glanced back at his clock again, this time surprised to find that it was almost seven. Ben would be getting up soon... He hadn't realized he had been staring at the ceiling for that long.

He swung out of bed, taking time to find the annoying—but useful—crutches, before standing up. His hair was back to the solid black, with no blonde showing through. He was once again, safely hidden behind _Alec_—minus while he was in the flat with Ben. There he was... well... he wasn't quite sure _who_ he was around Ben. It wasn't Alec, but at the same time, it wasn't quite _Alex_.

He started changing once he heard Ben get into the shower, his cue that being awake _now_ wouldn't raise eyebrows. He was out in the kitchen listening to music on his iPod by the time Ben came out, hair still wet.

"Sleep well?" Ben asked, shuffling through the cupboards, most likely looking for his cereal.

Alex shrugged. He wasn't about to tell Ben about the nightmares. Even though Ben had stopped prying after the first night, any mention of nightmares were bound to make him curious.

"Verbal today, aren't you?"

Alex snorted, and dug into his cereal. One of the benefits of starting to feel like a real human being meant he was actually hungry for once. Ben didn't need to prod him quite as much to eat more.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to you being so awake, so early in the morning." Ben took a seat across from him at the table. "I mean, you're a teenager. Aren't you supposed to be sleeping in every chance you get?"

Alex shrugged. "Guess I got all my sleeping in while I was in the hospital."

"Sure..." Ben sent him a disbelieving look. "Did you get your medicine?"

"Yeah." The first order of business on any day was to make sure Alex had his medicine. According to his doctor, even missing just one dose could put him at risk for another seizure. The last thing he wanted if he hoped to _ever_ get away from Ben.

They ate in silence, but Alex caught the cautious glances Ben sent him occasionally. The way he looked like he was about to say something, before deciding that it wasn't for the best. Did he—somehow—know about the nightmares, and was just trying to figure out the most _political_ way to bring it up? He couldn't... Alex had made sure not to give _any_ sign that he was awake before Ben.

As long as Ben stayed blissfully unaware, Alex figured he could deal with the nightmares on his own. He just had to... cover them up a bit. The moment he was living on his own again, he'd have plenty of opportunity to deal with them.

"Have you thought about going back to school?" Ben asked suddenly.

Alex glanced up, startled. _That_ certainly wasn't what he was expecting. "No. I mean... I can't exactly, can I?"

"Why not? You don't have to be in a school to take you GCSE's. Or whatever the French equivalent is, if you want." He waved his spoon in the air, as if trying to make a point. "And even if you don't take them for real, there's more than one way to get into a university. Like what you did with your personal and medical history."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Where are your morals Ben? First, forging the hospital records, now suggesting faking GCSE and A-Level results?"

"Hey! That's not what I meant." Ben looked slightly offended, but the barest hint of a smirk worked its way through. "You'd still have to do all the work. You just wouldn't get your qualifications through the normal realm." He shrugged slightly. "Haven't you wanted to do something other than work in some low level shop all day? This is your chance. You have a couple months with nothing to do, the least you can do is put it to good use. Learn something so your skills are expanded."

Alex stared at him, before shrugging. He hadn't ever entertained the possibility for much longer than a few seconds. It was pointless to try to study _and_ work more than 40 hours a week. He had had enough trouble getting in enough sleep—in the midst of _those_ nightmares—without having to worry about studying on top of it all. Now though... it was certainly something to think about.

While living a normal life might be impossible, it would at least open up the realms of possibilities for escape. He could go to a university, learn something useful, and disappear into the workforce somewhere in the world. Maybe... Switzerland, or South Korea, somewhere like that. Somewhere, where he wouldn't have to worry quite so much about looking over his shoulder for SCORPIA.

"Think about it." Ben said. "Because you're just going to go stir crazy if you don't have anything to do here."

Alex rolled his eyes and finished off his cup of tea. Technically, Ben wasn't allowing him to do any cooking—safety precaution from the doctor—but tea was at least within his realm of abilities. "So... anything new in the world?"

Ben flipped open his book that he had sitting on the edge of the table, and tapped in the code. He flicked through a few things, before settling on whatever it was he was looking for. "SCORPIA's still dormant, though there was a hint that they're planning something in Africa—Côte d'Ivoire, Ghana, Liberia, that area. There was a bus bombing in India yesterday—four civilians killed—set up by a minor terrorist group in the southern part of the country. The R&AW—basically, India's version of MI6—have the leaders in custody. South Korea and North Korea are having diplomatic disputes, again, so not a huge surprise there, though it does seem that the Jopok—Korean mafia—have a hand in the proceedings." Ben glanced up from the book, and shrugged. "Aside from that though, there's not too much going on. The assassinations of agents, MI6 or otherwise, has stopped for the moment, though I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not."

Alex nodded. So maybe South Korea wasn't such a good place to disappear to... then again, probably any mafia had _some_ sort of connection to SCORPIA. Not something to worry about at the moment though.

He pushed his teacup toward Ben and stood up. Maybe he'd be able to get some more sleep now. The adrenaline after the nightmare was gone. For now.

"Don't forget, you've got PT tonight."

"Yes, _m__um_."

Ben smirked at him, before grabbing the cup and taking it over to the sink with the rest of their dishes. "I've got some errands to do today, so I won't be back until around five. Make sure you eat a sandwich or something for lunch, and stay out of trouble, yeah?"

Alex smirked slightly. Freedom for a whole day. Ben had jumped out for a few hours each day, but never for the entire day. "Don't worry. This place'll still be standing."

"It'd better be."

* * *

><p><em>Alex stared around him, feeling the oppressive walls closing in on him. They weren't really moving—it just <em>felt_ like it. Indistinct figures crowded around the walls, encouraging the impression that the walls were moving. They were close, but too far away to make out faces. Identities._

_ A hand touched his shoulder. "Don't like it, Alex?"_

_ Alex spun around, but there was no one there. The feeling of someone touching him didn't go away. The__ grip tightened, and it felt like the hand had gone _inside_ his shoulder, leaving a trail of fire__ that seemed to__ cut through his bones and muscles. He twisted and turned, but there was no way to lose the hand. Lose the grip._

_ "You can't hide from us. We're always here." The voice was sickeningly close. Smooth, oily, deep. Completely unlike Julius._

_ Alex fell to the ground, writhing in pain. The fiery touch moved from his shoulder to his chest, right over his bullet wound. The touch twisted, seeming to penetrate the scar tissue, and pulled. Alex couldn't stop the cry that bubbled up._

_ "Don't worry Alex. Y__ou're not going to die." The touch trailed down his chest. The invisible hand. Invisible stranger. Fire, all the way to his core, followed and Alex sobbed. "This is nothing. It will only get worse from here, and we have _so_ much time together." The voice laughed, loud and long._

_ Alex did nothing more than tremble on the floor. He was powerless here._

_ The touch, followed by the fiery feeling, reached deep into Alex, and he screamed._

_ Helpless._

* * *

><p>He choked off the scream for the second time in one day, and tried to push off the overwhelming sense of helplessness. Alex was trembling, and he just barely managed to stand up, get his crutches underneath himself, and make it into the bathroom before the retching started. Helplessness clutched at his chest, and it was all he could do to keep from sinking to the floor.<p>

Shakily, once the worst of the heaves were over, he got into the shower. Between the cold shower and balancing on one leg, he slowly came back to himself. It was all in his head. All in his head... The worst part was—he couldn't identify the voice. Couldn't dredge up the memory to put a face with the voice.

Still unnerved, he dried off and headed back to his room, thanking his lucky stars that Ben wasn't around. That Ben had chosen that day, of all days, to run errands. There was no one to witness his breakdown and loss of control. What Ben didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

Alex had theories about why the nightmares had decreased, of course. They had decreased while he was in the hospital, because he was doped up on so many medications. The moment he had left, the strongest medicines, were gone. Even then though, the nightmares hadn't involved him waking up nearly screaming. Instead, most notably on the first day, it had involved him attacking the person trying to waking him up. He had been extra careful ever since then.

In the days and hours after that though, it felt like some sort of switch had been flipped. His body had stopped fighting back, stopped sending the warning signal that helped him wake up before the nightmares completely took over, and just let the nightmares take over. His mind seemed determined not to let him _forget_.

He punched his bed, before falling back on it. He _hated_ this. He felt so completely helpless. It didn't help any that each time the nightmares were getting progressively worse. More and more violent. Closer and closer to him losing it completely.

What he needed, for now, was a distraction...

He glanced around the room, picking out the bare furnishings. The chair by the desk. The few books that Ben had brought over from his flat were on top of the desk. The iPod was lying abandoned on the floor beside the bed, obviously having fallen off. He needed something more... _interactive_.

The least he could do was make a cup of tea. And he should probably at least _think_ about making something for lunch. Unfortunately, the thought of food wasn't exactly appetizing at the moment. Not after very nearly losing his meager breakfast.

He sat up with a groan, and grabbed his crutches again, before heading out to the kitchen. Definitely glad that Ben wasn't around for the moment. There wouldn't be any awkward questions about his current state of mind. No piercing glances, while he limped around the kitchen desperately looking for the comfort of his tea.

It only took a few minutes for the tea to be ready, and he sat down with a sigh, cradling the hot mug in his hand. Really, the tea would do nothing more than provide a light caffeine buzz, and perhaps wake him up a bit, but nothing more than that. What he needed was something... more.

That was when he spied Ben's book. It seemed that he had forgotten it on the table that morning. Alex reached out and pulled it closer, looking at the cover. Perhaps there was something interesting in there...?

Alex toyed with the idea. There was a lock, a password on it, but he had seen Ben enter it enough times that he was sure he could remember it. Besides, Ben couldn't _honestly_ expect him to leave it alone when it was in such a prominent place, could he?

Alex flipped it open to the first chapter, to the page that Ben had knowingly shown him so many weeks previously, and typed in the password that he had long since memorized. It was a rather simple sequence, and Ben certainly hadn't made any move to hide it. _Parliamentarians... S__... __executive... used... distinct... on... not... years... ministerial..._ It was simple to remember, especially since it actually spelled a word. _Pseudonym_.

The page flashed, and for a split-second, Alex wondered if he had somehow gotten it wrong. Within a moment though, it showed the menu screen. He was in. He hesitated again, wondering if it was really the best idea, but then, whatever was _in_ the book, Alex figured he already knew most of it. He just wouldn't tell Ben...

The layout was simple to follow and soon enough, Alex was skimming through the reports that Ben had flagged as _'possible connection'_. He figured that that meant possibly connected to the bombing, since the majority seemed to all connect back to _that_ particular date. Even then, there were reports that dated back to the summer, up to a month before the bombing. Had there been some sort of warning? Some sort of ransom by a terrorist group? Or was that what Ben was looking for?

Alex skipped over most of them, glancing through the few notes that Ben had made on them, noting that everything he had found so far was inconclusive. The first report that he actually read through was the report on the _Heathrow Bombing_.

It didn't tell him much more than what had come across on the television. Six hundred and twenty-eight casualties, forty-two seriously injured survivors, and one huge cover story put out by the Prime Minister's office. They had claimed to know the source of the attack—a way of soothing the populace—but it seemed that no single organization had stepped up to take the claim. No one had brought out their demands, or even _dared_ to use it as a statement in their propaganda. Even months later, it was clear that MI6—and most likely, MI5 as well—were floundering around, trying to find the responsible party.

There were more reports on the bombing, from statements of people who were far enough away not to get trapped in the blast, to the more professional reports of the emergency crews. After the majority of the rubble had been cleared, there were other reports from building supervisors and architects. The bomb had been positioned in such an area on the plane, that it had provided maximum blast effect to the terminal, taking out key supports in the building. There was no doubt that it was a professional job, with access to aircraft control, flight plans, and detailed blueprints to the terminal.

As the reports got more and more recent, the trend drifted away from the bombing and onto the more recent attacks. Attacks against agents worldwide, various world leaders, prominent business owners, and even the general public in a few instances. The attacks were brilliantly planned, happening infrequently enough that it was impossible for the general public to connect them together, but frequently enough that when something _did_ happen, the populace was almost always up in arms about it.

The most worrisome aspect though, was that the minor terrorism groups—groups that normally did nothing more than one or two attacks a year in their home country—were banding together, working almost like there was one ultimate power controlling them. There was speculation that organizations such as SCORPIA and _Simurgh_—one that Alex had never heard of before—were supporting the minor terrorists and guiding their movements. The perfect cover.

After a while, Alex started skimming again, not having found anything extremely interesting. Really, it seemed what Ben was interested in, were the people behind the Heathrow bombing. Alex was just curious about the more recent events.

Then one title jumped out at him. _'Agent Daniels, Benjamin: TOP SECRET, NATSEN.'_

Alex's finger hovered over the title, warring with temptation. On one hand, it could explain more about Ben's history—and why he was so determined to find the people responsible for the bombing—but if there was something in there... Well, Alex didn't exactly want anyone reading _his_ file. Too much had happened. Could it be possible that Ben would feel the same way?

_It would kill all doubts about his loyalties..._ If there was anything about any mission he was on—like informing MI6 about Alex's presence—it would _technically_ be in the file. Maybe Alex would finally be able to believe that Ben wasn't informing behind his back... maybe he'd finally find a surefire way to trust Ben completely.

Pushing off the hesitancy, he tapped the title and opened the file. The first page didn't tell Alex anything that he didn't already know. Ben's current address—including his family home in Liverpool—a couple paragraphs on each of his family relationships, his military and SAS training, and a brief outline of his missions, nine in total—including one with the SAS.

The next page held a little more information, going into a detailed report of his first MI6 mission, the bust of a gun trafficking ring in the Middle East. It had been a two-month long, undercover op, with an _Agent Braden_ as the leader. It seemed that _Braden_ also served as some sort of mentor, or guide, for Ben, based on the extra notes added to the original report. Alex almost snorted. It seemed that MI6 _did_ use partners frequently. They just never gave _him_ one, since all his other partners had a tendency to die. _Horrifically._

The second op was very familiar to Alex, and he skimmed over it, recognizing a few details here and there. It was almost like reading about the same situation from a different point of view. It was extremely unnerving, especially after the vivid reminders from the nightmares, and soon, Alex skipped to the next page.

Reading the rest of the report, he was surprised to find that the mission in Bangkok and Australia had been one of the few times Ben hadn't had a partner. His third mission had been with the _Agent Braden_, but the next three had been with an _Agent Freedman_. And the last mission—infiltration of a oil company in Ghana—with Agent Freedman had finished just two weeks before the bombing.

The last two missions were solo, but minor, both dating after the bombing. The report gave off the impression that it was, in a way, just to give Ben something to do. To get him out in the field when deskwork became far too monotonous. On the very last page, there were references to other files, on missions, training results, and fellow personnel Ben had worked with.

_Agent Braden, Christopher—active duty. __Detailed knowledge of _Simurgh_ headquarters in the Caspian Sea off the coast of Iran. See Operation Backwater for more information__. TOP SECRET, NATSEN._

_ Agent Freedman, Jacob—deceased. For more information, see archive and personnel Heathrow Bombing casualties list. CONFIDENTIAL._

Deceased? Because of the bombing? It fit with what Ben had said, forced leave for the personnel that lost someone... Alex sighed, closed out the file, and relocked the book. So much for finding something to distract himself with. It seemed that whatever he did, he _always_ found something that connected to a death. Although there was no way he could connect himself to Freedman's death, it brought back memories that he _really_ didn't want to think about.

His eyes roved around the room, looking for something else to take his mind off everything currently in his life. There was a set of keys on the counter that Alex knew were for the lock on the front door. Ben had put them there in the off chance that the fire alarm or something was pulled in the building. Now though... well, Ben wasn't supposed to be back until evening and it was only noon...

Maybe some fresh air would break through the fog that seemed to be clouding his mind ever since the nightmares started coming back in full force. Yes, fresh air would do some good.

He toyed with the idea of taking one of Ben's guns with him, but quickly decided that it would be pointless. If anything happened, he'd be as good as dead or captured thanks to the crutches. Really, going out wasn't the _best_ idea, but he felt like he needed to at least do _something_. Sitting around in the flat all day, trying _not_ to fall back asleep—not wanting to have _another_ nightmare—wasn't exactly the most fun. Maybe Ben's idea of working on his GCSE's wasn't so bad...

He went back to his room to grab his shoes, a sweatshirt, and the glasses, before scribbling a note to Ben letting him know that he had gone out for _'some air_'. He hoped that Ben would never have to see the note, and that his little excursion would go unnoticed.

Keys. Crutches. Shoes. Sweatshirt. Glasses. iPod. Headphones. Check.

Now for the adventure.

* * *

><p>There were mothers with toddlers running around, runners going through the park, and even a group of teenagers—since school hadn't started back up yet—playing football. They all added to the sense that everything was perfect and right in the world.<p>

Alex soaked it all in, enjoying the sense of freedom of, once again, fitting in with the general population. He could _almost_ forget the tragedy and all around mayhem that affected the rest of the world. Could almost forget the fact that he had all kinds of troubles in his life. He was in his own little protective bubble.

It hadn't been hard to find the park. It was only a block away from Ben's flat, and they had passed it more than once on their way to appointments. Alex remembered watching the people as he had passed, but hadn't thought of ever actually going there himself.

He liked it though.

Soothing and comforting in a sense.

While the crutches made getting around harder, there were plenty of benches that he could stop and take a break at. Currently, he had found once on top of a rise, that looked down on the small lake that gave the park a reason for being. While he wanted to explore more—would have loved to make it down to the lake—he was growing tired, and had decided to stay where he was for the moment.

All was well.

* * *

><p>It was with a start that he realized that he had dozed off for an unknown amount of time. The nightmare seemed to be nonexistent in the warmth of the midday sun, even though the wind had a definite chill to it. Shaking the bit of sleep off, Alex became fully alert again, surreptitiously watching the other people in the park. They were all the same, innocent as ever, ignoring his very presence. He let out a long sigh, before heaving himself back up on to the crutches. He had spent longer in the park than he had intended, especially if he planned to get back before Ben did.<p>

It was nearing four in the afternoon, and while Ben had said he'd be back around five, there was no telling if he would come back earlier or not. There was, of course, the possibility that he was back already, and ready to scold Alex for leaving. If not actively _looking_ for him... That would be bad.

A hyperactive six year old ran across his path and Alex barely managed not to trip. The mother shouted apologies toward him, while she chased after her child, and Alex couldn't help but smile slightly. It was so normal. No one seemed worried about whatever was happening in the world. Maybe they all came to the park to escape as well.

It didn't take too long to reach the flat again, and Alex was relieved to find that Ben's car wasn't back yet. The keys rattled in the lock, and a cursory glance around the rooms confirmed Alex's suspicions that no one had come into the flat while he was out.

He placed the keys back in their original position, and grabbed the note off the counter and proceeded to tear it into tiny shreds. After he successfully had a pile of paper fluff, he drenched it in water, wrung out the excess and threw it away. Ben would never know.

Feeling satisfied with his little _rebellion_, Alex headed back to his room after making sure that Ben's book was in the exact same position as before. Nothing was out of place, and _no one_ would know that he had ever stepped out of the flat. It would be his _secret_.

He fell onto his bed, exhausted from his walk back. While his physical therapist might have recommended getting _some_ exercise, they probably hadn't meant long walks to a park. He almost groaned when he remembered Ben's warning from earlier, _PT tonight_. Just what he needed.

Alex heard the front door open after staring at the ceiling for a while, and sat bolt upright. He quickly tossed his shoes underneath the bed, shoved the glasses back into the drawer on his stand, and pulled the sweatshirt off. He stuffed the sweatshirt underneath his pillow, and put his headphones in, turning the music up.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Ben popped his head in the door and sent Alex a smile. He said something, but Alex had to pull his headphones out.

"Sorry, what?"

Ben raised an eyebrow. "I see the place hasn't burned down, though I'm starting to wonder if you would have even noticed... What are you listening to anyway?"

Alex fought a smile, but it broke through anyway. "Rachmaninoff."

"Rachmaninoff? Never pegged you as one for classical."

Alex shrugged. "Smithers gave me a whole collection." He didn't mention that some of the songs had double features, depending on how they were played. For example, the current Rachmaninoff song when played at half speed armed the tranquilizer dart, and pressing the play/pause button three times caused it to fire. And that was just _one_ of the songs.

"Huh." Ben glanced down at his watch. "Want to give me a hand out here, then? We've got about an hour before we have to leave."

"Help with what?"

"Cooking. I feel like having some real Chinese food again, and it can finish cooking while we're out. Besides, I can show you a few things."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "What happened to me not using the stove?"

Ben grinned. "Who said you were using the stove?"

Alex snorted.

"I'll take that as a yes, then?"

Alex sighed. "I guess." Ben disappeared out the door, and Alex glanced mournfully at his bed, wishing to take another short nap. It seemed that he wasn't going to be able to sleep any more before PT. The one in the park had helped, right up until he had to make the walk back... Next time he took a walk, he was going to have to make sure it was shorter, and earlier in the day. Then again, maybe he'd be so tired by the time he got back, that the nightmares wouldn't bother him for once. That would be a relief...

"Preferably sometime this year, Alex!"

Alex smiled slightly, tossed the iPod onto the bedside stand, and grabbed his crutches once more. Maybe if he got out a little more, he could pull off _normal life_ for a while longer...

* * *

><p><em>"You are being charged on multiple accounts of murder—<em>_including that of your guardian—__destruction of property, attempted murder, and association with known terrorist groups. Mr. Rider, how do you plead?"_

_ Alex stared around the room, his heart fluttering in his chest. Everyone was there. Everyone that he had taken down and killed.__ But i__t wasn't his fault!__ He hadn't killed them on _purpose_!__ "N-not gu-guilty! It wasn't my fault! It just_—_" He wanted to fight, wanted to force them to see things his way. To see that he had been forced into the position. A position he had never wanted. The people coming toward him, cut off any protests, as fear entered his mind.__  
><em>

_ Slowly, they all surrounded him. Ash. Razim. Sayle. Nile. Sarov. Rothman. McCain. Drevin. Yu. Kaspar. Conrad. Step by step, they came closer and closer, until Alex had his back pressed up against a wall, trying to keep as much distance between himself and them. He couldn't get away. They just kept coming. Closer and closer._

_ "You can't run."_

_ "You can't hide."_

_ "Nowhere is safe."_

_ "You're a killer."_

_ "Run, Alex, run."_

_ Jack came up behind him, looking the same as when he had last seen her. Perfectly whole and well. She smiled at him, and pulled him away from the people. Pulled him away from the enemies advancing on him. The court room vanished, and he found himself back in his room in Chelsea. Just as it had been over a year earlier.  
><em>

_ "Oh, Jack. I had the worst nightmare." He stared at her, not wanting her to disappear again. "Ian was a spy, and he died, and then they blackmailed me into working for them, and then there was a bomb... and... and..." He couldn't bring himself to say it. It was only a nightmare now... everything was normal again. Just a nightmare.  
><em>

_ He hugged Jack and was startled when she pushed him away._

_ Tears were streaming down her face. "Alex, how could you?"_

_ "How... how could I, what?" He stared at her, his heart starting to speed up again._ No_. NO._ This _was real. It was a nightmare. A nightmare._

_ "You did this." She leaned toward him, saddened fury clear on her face. Her tears turned to blood running down her face. "You killed me."_

_ "What?" He skittered back on the bed, and soon found his back against the wall. "No. No, I didn't. You're here. You're not dead. You're here. This is real. You're_ not dead_."_

_ "It's your fault, Alex. Why do you think you're here? I'm dead. You killed me." She reached out and stroked Alex's face, leaving a trail of fire behind. He tried to pull away, but something stopped him. He couldn't move. "How could you? You should have let me leave. Let them take my visa. This would have never happened. I'd be safe."_

_ "No." He shook his head desperately. "No. You're here. It's not my fault. It's not real. You're alive..."_

_ A hand slapped him, leaving a burning imprint on his face. "You're a liar. You killed me." Her features, once beautiful, seemed to melt together. Flesh charred beyond recognition. "This is what you have done, Alex. You need to _pay_.__" Her hands wrapped around his throat, causing him to cry out in pain. The fiery grip seemed to cut through everything. The grip slowly tightened, cutting off his airway. Choking him. Suffocating him. He twisted and turned, trying to loosen her hands._

_ He succeeded for a moment, but only managed to get in enough air to scream loudly when the fiery grip returned. He was slowly suffocating. And _Jack_ was killing him.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, thanks to the major change I made last chapter, this one doubled in length... wasn't expecting that. You're lucky you're getting a chapter tonight though, since I've been gone (away from my computer) for the last three days and haven't been able to work on this at all. I barely managed to re-edit this one to perfection, since I have to head to bed _very soon_.**

**So... did you like the nightmares? Do they seem somewhat consistent with what I've written before? What about with just the ones this chapter? Do you get the feeling that each time, the nightmare is worse than before? What about Alex's little _adventure_? Or was that just stupidity? I'm not actually sure myself...  
><strong>

**OH HEY! If you're from France, could you explain your schooling system to me? I don't think Wikipedia does it justice...**

**Until next week!**

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	18. Nightmare

**Disclaimer:** _Are these disclaimers really needed? I mean, I think we've thoroughly established that I'm not Anthony Horowitz, nor will I ever hold the rights to these books. Right? Besides, it's not like I'm making any money here..._

_In. My. Dreams._**  
><strong>

_**Previously...**  
><em>

_ "It's your fault, Alex. Why do you think you're here? I'm dead. You killed me." She reached out and stroked Alex's face, leaving a trail of fire behind. He tried to pull away, but something stopped him. He couldn't move. "How could you? You should have let me leave. Let them take my visa. This would have never happened. I'd be safe."_

_ "No." He shook his head desperately. "No. You're here. It's not my fault. It's not real. You're alive..."_

_ A hand slapped him, leaving a burning imprint on his face. "You're a liar. You killed me." Her features, once beautiful, seemed to melt together. Flesh charred beyond recognition. "This is what you have done, Alex. You need to _pay_.__" Her hands wrapped around his throat, causing him to cry out in pain. The fiery grip seemed to cut through everything. The grip slowly tightened, cutting off his airway. Choking him. Suffocating him. He twisted and turned, trying to loosen her hands._

__ He succeeded for a moment, but only managed to get in enough air to scream loudly when the fiery grip returned. He was slowly suffocating. And _Jack_ was killing him._**  
><strong>_

**CHAPTER 18: Nightmare**

* * *

><p>Something had seemed off about Alex for the last few evenings. Ben couldn't put his finger on what it was though, and wrote it off as Alex just being overly tired from his last few physical therapy sessions. Goodness knew that those could be killer at times.<p>

Ben couldn't stop a smirk from appearing though, when Alex almost nodded off in the midst of eating supper. The kid was wiped out, and it took Ben prodding him to get him to finish his food. Ben wasn't too surprised when Alex immediately went to bed, not even bothering with his customary check on the rest of the world. Well and truly out of it.

They were going on three weeks out of the hospital, and Alex had started working on studying for his GCSE's. It had involved an overnight trip to Liverpool for Ben—to swipe Luke's old GCSE and A-Level textbooks—and Ben had trusted Alex enough to not leave. Ben had been hesitant about the short trip, but had doubted that Alex would disappear. He'd only have to worry about that _after_ Alex was walking without crutches...

The trip had gone well, and he had been able to keep his family from wondering where he had disappeared to after the holidays. Thanks to MI6 finally getting around to giving him an official cover, he was able to tell his family that after some department hopping over the past year, he had finally settled down in a undefined job with the _Department for International Development_ that would involve travel and late hours rather frequently. That had at least satisfied _some_ of his family's questions.

Once Ben was back with the books, Alex dove into his studies. Unlike the first few weeks out of the hospital, he was awake for the majority of the day—aside from a few short naps here and there. Aside from seeming exhausted at the end of the day, it seemed that he was becoming more and more adjusted to normal, everyday, activities—even occasionally acting like a normal, somewhat grumpy, teenager.

Ben himself was looking forward to going back to work, even if it meant deskwork for a few weeks. He had been growing restless over the past few weeks, having nothing productive to do other than keep an eye on Alex and watch the trend of the news and reports. The only reservations he had about going back, was what Alex would do when Ben was out on a mission. His crutches would be gone by then, and it would be the perfect chance for him to disappear completely. Ben wouldn't even know until he was back—days, possibly weeks later. He had no doubt that if Alex got away, _no one_ would find him if he didn't want them to. Except by accident... And he highly doubted that Alex would permit anyone to _stumble_ across him again. He would be extra careful.

What Ben needed was a way to get through to Alex. To get the point across that staying in London—with Ben—finishing the six, or more, months of physical therapy, and earning his GCSE and A-Level's really were the best options.

The first step toward getting Alex to understand came both sooner and later than what Ben expected.

On any other night, Ben would have been in bed hours earlier, but a stream of reports coming in from the Ghana and Côte d'Ivoire region had caught his attention. Having been on a mission in Ghana just before the Heathrow bombing, he was curious as to _what_ was going on in the region.

It was nearing midnight by the time he had finished going through the last report—an update on the political crisis in Côte d'Ivoire—and Ben put the book down, resting his tired eyes. He wasn't quite sure _why_ he had insisted on finishing the reports, they certainly weren't going anywhere, but he had a nagging sense that things were about to change. Drastically...

Any other night, he would have missed hearing the noises from the room across the hall. Had it been any earlier, he would have just figured that Alex was doing something in the room, getting ready for bed, or whatnot. But it was midnight, and Alex had been in bed for hours already.

Focusing his attention on the noise, it became loud enough for Ben to identify what the noise was. A whimper. At that, Ben left his room and crossed the hall, standing outside Alex's door, listening for more sounds. He hesitated, wondering if he should really invade Alex's privacy. There was an unspoken agreement between them—Alex would deal with his problems without any outside help. Not that Ben wanted it that way; it was just the way that _Alex_ wanted things. He wanted to be independent.

A louder whimper and a _very_ audible sob made the decision for Ben, and he pushed the door open cautiously. _If_ Alex was awake, he wasn't going to take to intrusion very well. If he wasn't though... Ben peered into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.

Alex was still asleep, but his body was rigid, deep in the throes of a nightmare. His hands clenched at the sheets, the only sign that he was battling whatever was tormenting him in his mind. "_No... __didn't._" Alex seemed to gasp for air. "_Not... __dead_." His head jerked slightly, pulling away from something imaginary.

"Alex?" Ben asked, cautiously. Ben approached slowly, not wanting to startle him, and risk getting hurt from Alex's automatic fight response, but at the same time, he couldn't leave the kid in the midst of the nightmare. He turned on the lamp beside the bed, and the light cast odd shadows over Alex's face, making him seem both older and more vulnerable at the same time. He shook Alex's shoulder slightly, hoping to get some kind of response. "Come on, wake up. It's a nightmare Alex."

"_Not... my fault._" Alex's whole body twisted to the side, before shuddering slightly. He seemed to be pleading. "_Not... real_." He shuddered and gasped again, until Ben couldn't quite tell if he was actually breathing or not.

Ben shook his shoulder more roughly, trying to get him to snap out of it. "Alex! Wake up!"

Alex finally woke up, with a scream and a sob, and immediately started fighting against the hands holding him. He got in a solid punch to Ben's stomach before Ben was able to safely restrain his arms.

Ben wheezed for a few seconds, before pulling himself together again. "Calm down, Alex. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. You're safe here." His grip loosened when Alex stopped thrashing.

"No. No. No. Please, no." Alex sat up slightly, and pulled away from Ben, tears falling down his face. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

Hesitantly, Ben moved so he was crouched beside the bed. "Alex? It was a nightmare. You're okay now." Slowly, he reached out a hand and rested it on Alex's shoulder, trying to soothe him in some way.

Alex didn't seem to register the touch at first, but when he did, he pulled away again, until his back was pressed up against the wall. His eyes were wide and frightened, but there was something else too. Determination. "Go away. Leave me alone!" He shoved Ben's still outstretched hand away. "I don't—just... leave Ben!" His voice cracked slightly. "_Please._"

Ben nodded slightly, getting up from the floor. Alex didn't want to talk at the moment, but they _would_ eventually talk about it. He left the room, and let the door swing shut behind himself, but instead of going back to his room, he settled down in the hall.

Within moments, Ben could make out the telltale signs of quiet sobs coming through the door. He felt like he was intruding on something private, but couldn't bring himself to go to bed while knowing that Alex was dealing with his own monsters. If only he would accept _help_... but he was so independent that he saw help was a _weakness_.

It felt like he spent hours listening to the sobbing and mumbled pleas. Ben wasn't even sure if Alex was fully awake, or if he was only conscious enough to know that _something_ wasn't real. That there was _some_ reason not to give up completely. Ben wanted nothing more than to help, but he couldn't. Alex just pushed him away.

After nearly two hours of the sobs and pleas, it trailed off, and Ben wondered if Alex had finally fallen back asleep. It was well past two in the morning, and Alex _had_ to be getting tired. He had seemed so exhausted at supper, after all... Maybe there was more to his exhaustion than Ben had first suspected.

Eventually, he heard Alex take a deep, shuddering breath, and the slight creak of the bed as he stood up. Within moments, he heard the soft thud of the crutches coming across the floor toward the door, and Ben sprung up. Alex hadn't wanted him around, so he doubted that he would be very happy if he knew Ben had stuck around.

Ben slipped into his room just as Alex came out and headed toward the bathroom. He doubted that he had fooled anyone, but it was all about appearances. He heard running water in the bathroom, and eventually the shower came on as well. It seemed that Alex was convinced he wasn't getting back to sleep any time soon. If at all, that night.

It wasn't healthy. Confrontation was inevitable. They needed to talk.

Ben headed out to the kitchen and flipped on the light switch. If Alex was up, then it seemed that neither of them were going to get very much sleep that night. After putting some water on for tea, he went back to the hall to wait for Alex.

* * *

><p>Almost like Alex knew Ben was waiting for him, he seemed to take an extremely long time in the shower, putting off the time when he would have to face the <em>real world<em>. Even when the shower finally shut off, Ben knew it would be a while. Between the intricacies of the knee brace and the time of night, it was doubtful that no matter how _awake_ Alex was, it wasn't going to be quick.

Eventually the door opened, and Alex walked out, a dazed and tired expression on his face. Ben gestured down the hall toward the kitchen, when Alex seemed content to just stare at him. It was early, he was tired, but it was clear from the look in Alex's eyes that he wasn't going to be falling asleep anytime soon.

Alex got the message, scowled slightly, before brushing past Ben, and going to the kitchen. He took his customary seat, and rested his elbows on the table, watching Ben.

The gaze on his back was unnerving, but Ben tried his best to act as normal as possible. As if making tea at two in the morning was completely normal... A glance back at Alex confirmed that he was still being watched. Completely unwavering.

When he finished, he put a cup down in front of Alex, before taking his own seat. In the bright light, Alex looked even less healthy. His face was a blanched white and the dripping black hair certainly didn't help anything. There were edges of dark circles around his eyes as well, making Ben wonder just how long these nightmares had been going on. How long he had been missing the signs.

Alex had lowered his eyes to the cup in front of him, face almost completely blank except for a faint look of annoyance... and sadness. He seemed less than interested in the cup in front of him, stirring it merely from habit.

Ben stifled a sigh. Alex had closed himself off even more, as soon as they had reached the kitchen. He wasn't going to want to talk at all. "Alex... you haven't been getting much sleep recently, have you?"

Alex's eyes flicked upwards for a moment, before resuming his stare at the table. They sat in silence, until Alex slowly shook his head.

Ben had to keep himself from clenching his fists in frustration. He had seen the signs and ignored them for what they were. The exhaustion in the evenings, and reluctance to do much more than study during the day. Even the short naps during the day, Ben had brushed aside as merely a leftover from the hospital. It seemed it wasn't. Not entirely.

"How many hours do you get each night?" Ben asked. He wasn't sure if Alex was actually going to answer, especially when he stared at the table for the next five minutes without saying a word.

Eventually, Alex shrugged.

"You have to have an idea." Ben pressed. The difference between none and some could make all the difference as far as Alex was concerned. The difference between six and eight hours as well.

Alex took a long drink from his cup, before shrugging again. "Four? Five?"

Ben swore under his breath, and Alex glanced up at him, a flicker of emotion crossing his face. _Surprise_. Was he surprised that someone actually _cared_ that he got such a small amount of sleep? "So... I guess nightmares aren't exactly something you're unaccustomed to then." Ben had to stop himself from frowning at the kid. "You've dealt with them for a while. Before... your accident."

Alex nodded slightly, finishing off the tea in his cup.

Ben took it and refilled it, knowing that even if most of Alex's answers were nonverbal, at least they were getting _somewhere_. "So, you're used to functioning on just a few hours of sleep."

Another nod.

"You realize that getting so few hours of sleep isn't something you can afford right now. Really, you can't afford it _anymore_. It's not good for you, and your doctor said that sleep deprivation _could_ cause more... problems. You're supposed to be recovering."

Alex shrugged again, but the nonchalance was forced. It wasn't that he didn't care about the possibilities—likely the possibilities terrified him—but whatever was causing the nightmares was so deeply ingrained into his mind that he couldn't _fix_ the problem on his own. Still refusing to ask for help.

Ben sighed. Talking to Alex was like talking to a wall. Only... _slightly_ better. Obviously, this wasn't the time to press for answers. "Listen, I _know_ you don't want to talk about whatever your nightmare was about. It's recent, you're tired—no matter how much you want to deny that—and whatever it is, is probably linked to some sort of memory you want to forget."

Alex flinched slightly, acknowledging that Ben had hit the nail on the head.

"Just... As counterproductive as it might seem, talking helps. I mean, a lot of people have trouble with nightmares after traumatic events. You don't have to suffer through this alone." Ben felt like stopping there, but something pressed him to keep going. "If you—whenever you want to—need someone to talk to... well, I might not be able to help much, but I can at least listen."

Alex didn't look up, didn't give any sign that he had actually heard what Ben had said. He just continued staring at his cup with mild disinterest. After a few minutes though, he slowly nodded. At least it was a sign that he hadn't ignored Ben completely...

The two of them sat in the kitchen for another couple of hours and Ben kept their cups filled with tea, only getting up from the table long enough to heat some more water. Aside from the once, Alex didn't say anything, but it was clear that he was lost in whatever his thoughts were. A variety of emotions flittered across his face, before disappearing almost as quickly as they appeared. Ben doubted that Alex even realized his emotions were showing through.

The clock slowly ticked on, and just after five, Alex finished his latest cup of tea. He let his head drop to his hands for a moment, before standing up to leave. It seemed that he could stand the silence only so long.

Ben watched him, as he headed toward the hall, wishing that he could do more than just sit with the teen. Could do more than just _offer_ to listen. That was all he had though... all he could do while Alex was shutting him out.

He barely heard Alex's muttering, but it drifted across the silence of the room. "Thanks, Ben."

Even if that was the only acknowledgment he was going to get, those simple words made the long night worth it. He had done _something_.

* * *

><p>Ben was exhausted. For the fifth night in a row, he had had to wake Alex from a nightmare. Ever since the first nightmare he had heard, he had taken to sleeping lighter, just waiting for the first signs. Even then, he had never managed to get to Alex before the nightmare was at its worst. Had never recognized the sounds soon enough.<p>

He could only imagine how Alex must be feeling, if _he_ felt like just falling asleep during the day. There was no doubt that if Alex didn't do something about the nightmares soon—and get a reasonable amount of sleep—it was going to take a negative toll on his health.

Ben had looked up everything he could find on nightmares and post-traumatic stress, but the majority weren't helpful—aside from adding to Ben's suspicions that Alex had some form of PTSD. In almost all examples of treating it though, the person was _cooperative_. Alex was determined not to talk about it. Or to talk at all. It had made their meals ever since the first nightmare somewhat awkward.

The latest nightmare had come around four in the morning, making for a surprising six hours of sleep, though Ben couldn't be sure if Alex had really gotten that much. Despite the fact that he often disappeared into his room around eight, Ben had quickly found out that Alex was most definitely _not_ sleeping then. In a way, he was making things worse. Just through his own stubbornness.

Granted, it did seem that he got an hour or so of sleep _after_ he had calmed down from the nightmare. Ben didn't want to think what would happen if Alex didn't at least get that much. The naps during the day were never longer than half an hour, bringing the daily total up to six or seven hours, depending on how bad a night it was.

Despite the fact that he wasn't trying to hide the nightmares from Ben anymore, Alex was always up and at the table by seven. Recently, he had taken to bringing whatever textbook he was going over to the table with him, just to spur off any kind of conversation.

Frustrating.

Ben glanced at his watch, after Alex left the kitchen. _5:53._ He headed back to bed, determined to make good use of the one hour he had left to sleep.

* * *

><p>Breakfast was once again a quiet affair. Alex was reading a textbook—chemistry according to the cover—and Ben was immersed in his updates on the world. There was a bus bombing in Pakistan, courtesy of <em>Simurgh<em> by the latest report in MI6. Simurgh was one of the older, but newer, groups in the world. It had been around in the 80s, disbanded in the 90s, and was _reborn_ around the same time that SCORPIA had its latest downfall. The two groups came back at the same time, just weeks before the Heathrow bombing.

There were other items of interest though, and not _everything_ came through MI6's info mills. Farmers in Argentina were on strike, people in Tunisia continued to protest against the new government, there was extreme flooding in both Brazil and South Africa, and a computer glitch had halted Japan's bullet trains for over an hour. The last one held some interest—quite the opportunity for any up and coming hacker to show off their skills—and Ben had a feeling that by the end of the day, there would be some report written up on it in either the MI6 or MI5 database. That's what analysts were for, after all.

Ben's eyes flicked over toward Alex, taking in his appearance again. His face seemed to have taken on a permanent pale tinge, and the circles below his eyes had darkened over the past few days. There was no doubt that the lack of sleep over the past—well, Ben didn't even know how many—days, were catching up with Alex, and there would be repercussions in the future.

Ben sighed, and went to rinse his dishes in the sink. Alex was still as stubborn as ever, refusing to ask—or acknowledge—any sort of help. So independent...

"Why do you care?"

The question startled Ben, and he turned around to find Alex staring at him. The textbook had fallen to the side, and he had his chin propped on his hand. For a moment, he almost looked like a normal teenager.

"What do you mean?" Ben asked. For the first _real_ conversation in five days, he certainly hadn't been expecting vague questions.

"Why do you care?" Alex asked again. "I'm not forcing—and certainly not requesting—that you stay up with me after... _that_. You should just leave me alone, and let me deal with it on my own, but you don't." He frowned slightly, as if pondering his own words. "So I ask—why do you care about what happens? What's so important about _me_? It's not like MI6 can use me like... _this_." His tone turned scornful, and Ben couldn't stop the frown he pointed toward Alex.

"You don't get it, do you?" He sat back down in the chair across from Alex. "Alex, you're a _teenager_. It's not about MI6, SCORPIA, or anyone else coming after you anymore. It's about you _feeling_ like you have to fix your own problems—with no outside help. You shouldn't even have these problems in the first place. It's not right that you feel like you have to hide behind an alias, just because someone decided to play God with your life, and now everyone you know wants you dead—or thinks you are already."

Alex stared at the table morosely. "Life isn't fair."

"Just because 'life isn't fair,' doesn't mean you have to deal with everything on your own. If everyone was expected to figure things out on their own, then what good are experts for? Why don't we live in a solitary society, where everyone does things their own way and knows the answer to everything? Or did you think dealing with things on your own only applied to _you_?"

Alex cringed slightly, but his expression turned pensive. "I'm fine on my own."

"No, you're not. Not anymore. If that was true, I doubt I could have _persuaded_ you to come here. You _know_ you can't deal with everything on your own, that's why you came here. You wouldn't be able to protect yourself if someone came calling. Deep down, you _know_ that needing help isn't weakness." _When_ had he turned into such a psychologist...? Probably when he started seeing one on a more than weekly basis... "Alex... I don't want to see you hurt yourself more, just because you're too stubborn to ask for help."

"Why's it matter?" Alex muttered.

"_Why_?" Ben grinned at Alex. "Do I need to list _all_ the reasons?"

Alex glanced up, frowning slightly.

"You're a teenager, and you certainly deserve better than what you've had. This is your chance to get away from the world that's been destroying your life for the past two years. I get that you don't like being tied down, least of all here in the middle of London, but I don't want you going out half-healed. It's dangerous. If anyone from your past stumbles across you, the probably wouldn't hesitate to take advantage. The least I can do is to help you get a good start, one _away_ from the espionage world, and a reasonable education, so you won't be at the bottom of the totem pole for the rest of your life."

Alex stared at him long and hard, before nodding. After a few minutes of brooding silence from Alex, he stood up and left the room, leaving Ben to wonder if he had actually gotten through or not. He doubted that he could have said it in much plainer terms—aside from saying it outright—that he wanted to help Alex out. Only time would tell.

Ben cleared the table of Alex's dishes, before flicking through to the end of the news report he had been reading. By keeping updated on the news, it made reading the analysts reports go by that much faster. Only one more week until he could go back to work and start feeling useful again...

His eyes alighted on the textbook Alex had been going through, left forgotten on the table. Eventually, Alex was going to want it again, and Ben doubted that he had left it behind on purpose. Ben picked the book up, slightly surprised that Alex had managed to carry the book and maneuver his crutches at the same time. Maybe he _had_ left it behind on purpose...

"Hey Alex!" Ben called through the flat. "You realize you forgot your textbook?"

"Oh! Right... guess I... guess I need that. Can you... can you... bri-bring—" Alex's words stuttered off, and Ben glanced up, confused. Alex _didn't_ stutter. A moment later, a loud thump came from the room, and Ben dropped the textbook back onto the table, and ran to Alex's room.

"Alex?" Ben pushed open the door, his heart jumping into his throat when he saw the scene in the room. "Alex!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: *runs and hides from readers* Sorry, sorry, sorry... I tried really, really, hard not to make it a cliff hanger, but it just ended so _nicely_ right there... I hope it didn't come across as too moody/angsty/whatnot, but I think the nightmares and lack of sleep mess with Alex's mind a bit. He's just really wary of opening up around _anyone_, much less Ben.  
><strong>

**I want (just like some of you reviewers) some more action in here, but I really can't have Alex kicking bad guy butt while he's still fumbling around on crutches. It just doesn't work. Crutches + bad guys + guns = dead or severely injured (and kidnapped) Alex. I don't think you want that... (but then, maybe you're a sadist like me and enjoy hurting Alex). I'm hoping that there will be action in the next chapter, but I'm not making any promises. And you'd probably be really confused if I had skipped a month into the future just for the sake of getting him walking again (don't worry, he's only got about a week left on the cursed things).  
><strong>

**REVIEWS! Guys, don't forget to review on the way out! It keeps me encouraged that I'm not writing absolute junk, which I feel like I'm doing at times. Thanks to those who have reviewed, and to everyone else, do this author a favor and let me know what you like and don't like.  
><strong>

**Thus ends chapter 18.  
><strong>

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	19. A Talk An Adventure

**Disclaimer: **_If you still think I might possibly be Anthony Horowitz, I don't think you'd be threatening me with pitchforks for giving you a cliffhanger... and then making you wait a week.**  
><strong>_

_**Previously...**  
><em>

_"Hey Alex!" Ben called through the flat. "You realize you forgot your textbook?"_

_"Oh! Right... guess I... guess I need that. Can you... can you... bri-bring—" Alex's words stuttered off, and Ben glanced up, confused. Alex _didn't_ stutter. A moment later, a loud thump came from the room, and Ben dropped the textbook back onto the table, and ran to Alex's room._

_"Alex?" Ben pushed open the door, his heart jumping into his throat when he saw the scene in the room. "Alex!"_

**CHAPTER 19: A Talk. An Adventure.**

* * *

><p>He felt horrible.<p>

Sick. Groggy. Cold. Exhausted. _Confused_.

Yes, he was definitely confused. The last thing Alex remembered—or thought he remembered—was sitting in the kitchen talking to Ben. Now he felt like he was lying on something incredibly hard and cold, something that was certainly not helping with his aching muscles. The headache was probably the worst though, and it seemed to pound in tune with his heartbeat, a rapid staccato.

The sick feeling in his stomach started to intensify, and he tried to sit up to decrease the discomfort. A firm hand on his chest held him down.

"I don't recommend doing that, Alex. Trust me when I say, it'll just make you hurt more."

Alex huffed, but settled for rolling onto his back. He calmed himself into stillness, trying to push away the feeling of physical sickness. After a few minutes of controlled breathing, the feeling subsided slightly, and the hand moved away. He wrapped his arms around his torso, hoping to find some sort of warmth again. It was _so_ cold.

"Wuz goin' on?" He couldn't help but fumble over the words, his mouth not quite catching up with his thoughts. He squinted in the light, but could make out the wood floor of his current room, and Ben leaning over him.

"You had a seizure." Ben sighed, and grabbed one of the blankets off the bed, before wrapping it around Alex. "You've been out for... probably ten minutes, tops. I don't want to say 'I told you so,' but I did warn you about not getting enough sleep."

"Mmm..." He didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to think... one part of his brain was berating him for the fact that his time with Ben had just been extended, while another part was just starting to shut down again. "Can't... think."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Ben sighed again. "Headache and an all around bad feeling, right?"

Alex blinked at him blearily. "Umm hmm."

"I take it that a painkiller might be nice then?" Ben didn't even bother to wait for a reply before standing up and heading toward the door. "And maybe a bed, instead of the floor for sleeping on..."

Alex smiled humorlessly, before letting his tired eyes slide shut again. He never even heard Ben come back into the room.

* * *

><p>Alex woke up a while later, only aware of the seemingly ever-present pounding headache. It took him a moment to reorient himself, especially since he was still on the floor. Want for some sort of comfort—namely the bed—won out over his desire to sleep more.<p>

It didn't take him too long to spot Ben sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. He looked like he had been there for a while, and Alex wondered how long it had been. His clock was out of reach for the moment though... not that that would do too much good. He had no clue when he had woken up in the first place.

Ben glanced up from the book he was reading through—one that Alex was sure had been sitting on the shelf only days earlier with a substantial covering of dust. He raised an eyebrow at Alex. "I think you fell asleep as soon as I left the room."

Alex grunted, and struggled to push himself upright. _Everything_ hurt, and the simplest movements seemed to pull on hundreds of muscles he never even knew he _had_. "You... waited?"

Ben shrugged and moved toward him. "It's not like I have anything better to do." It was only his hand on Alex's back that kept him from falling right back down on to the floor. Ben chuckled. "Bed, medicine, sleep. Sound good?"

Alex nodded. The bed sounded much nicer than the floor.

Ben looped an arm underneath Alex's shoulder. "Remember, no weight on your knee. It's already taken a bit of a battering today, and I don't want you to hurt it more." Between the two of them, Alex was able to—painfully—get off the ground, and onto the bed. The _extremely comfortable_ bed. "Medicine first, then you can sleep for as long as you'd like."

Alex stayed upright just long enough to swallow the water and pills, and then fell back onto the soft pillows. His head was still pounding, but hopefully, the painkillers would take care of that... "I hate this." He mumbled.

"I know. Just hang in there; I'm sure it'll get better soon."

Alex snorted. It certainly didn't feel like it would get better anytime soon. The only upside, was since he hadn't had the seizure in the hospital, there weren't any doctors or nurses buzzing around him, making it hard to sleep. If only he _hadn't_ had to worry about it in the first place...

"Go to sleep, Alex... you're not going to feel like doing anything, but the sleep will help some."

Alex didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

><p>After sleeping on and off for the majority of the day, and taking another round of painkillers, Alex started to feel a little more like himself. Unfortunately, the best that the painkillers could do was take the edge off the pounding headache for a while, and even that eventually became ineffective.<p>

In the drowsy stillness though, Alex had a chance to collect his thoughts, particularly from the fragmented morning. The day had started out the usual way, insanely early after another violent nightmare. Ben had once again stayed up and made tea, until Alex was calm enough to attempt sleep for another hour or so. Breakfast had been quiet, until... there had been some sort of conversation...

He rubbed at his forehead, trying to remember the details. It seemed that right around that time of morning was when the memories started to fade and disappear. Just fragments of what seemed like a full morning.

_"Why do you care?"_

He had asked Ben that, trying to rationalize his own thoughts. He _knew_ Ben hadn't told MI6, he knew that without a doubt since he regularly checked Ben's book for any suspicious activity. If that was true though, he could think of no rational reason for Ben to care so much about the nightmares. To care so much about keeping the seizures away. Not that either of them had succeeded in that...

It had almost turned into an argument—for reasons that Alex couldn't remember—but someone had said something that involved Ben completely changing moods, leaving Alex more confused than ever. After that, he had gone back to his room. And then, _nothing_. The next thing he knew, he was waking up on the floor after the seizure.

He hated the feeling of not being able to remember...

Rolling out of bed, he grabbed his crutches and headed out into the hall. The headache wasn't going anywhere, and judging by the fact that there weren't any more painkillers sitting on the table beside the bed, he couldn't take anything more yet. Even the somewhat simple movements of limping down the hall made his muscles protest.

Ben was in the living room, but glanced up as soon as he heard Alex, and headed into the kitchen. By the time Alex was sitting in his spot at the table, a cup of tea was well on its way to being made.

"How's your knee?" Ben asked.

"Sore."

"Everything else?"

"Sore."

Ben snorted slightly, before pushing a slice of toast toward Alex. "You need to eat something."

Alex nibbled on the toast, not feeling very hungry. He wanted to go back to sleep, but at the same time, was too awake to really think about it. He would just end up lying in bed, uncomfortable.

"No more painkillers for a while though. You're maxed out on pretty much everything I can safely give to you."

Alex shrugged. If there were more painkillers in the eventual future, he'd survive for the time being. He hated the fact that he had to get by in the meantime though... The seizures were messing with everything. He couldn't safely live on his own, _and_ it made it impossible for him to deal with his nightmares in his own way.

_"__I don't want to see you hurt yourself more, just because you're too stubborn to ask for help."_ Ben had said that only that morning. During their _conversation_. It had become fact only minutes later when the seizure had taken advantage of his sleep-deprived state. Alex _knew_ he was stubborn, but he hadn't expected that the lack of sleep would cause a seizure quite as quickly as it had. Even though he _had_ been having the violent nightmares regularly for almost two weeks now...

"Glaring at the table won't solve your problems." Ben said, setting a cup down in front of Alex. Alex tried not to glare at him for the teasing tone. "Hopefully this'll take the edge off your headache though."

Alex stared at the steaming cup, before dredging up a small smile for Ben. "The edge is gone. It's the rest of it that's not going away."

Ben smirked at Alex's attempt at humor. "Sorry I can't do much about the rest of it."

Alex closed his eyes for a few moments, imagining himself in a completely different place._ Jack used to say that after a nightmare.._. Stubbornly, he pushed the thoughts away, and focused on the tea in front of him. It was hot, really too hot for him to be gulping down, but it had a soothing quality to it. Calming. If he hadn't known better, he would have accused Ben of lacing his tea with something.

"I talked to your doctor earlier. You've got an appointment in a few hours. They want to run a few tests, maybe change the prescription on your medicine." Ben shrugged slightly. "They _are_ going to ask about why you aren't getting enough sleep, you know."

Alex groaned, but nodded. Just what he needed. More people that wanted to delve into his mind and figure out what made him tick. Not only that, but he was going to have to concentrate long enough to listen to his doctor, make sure his actions were understandable for _Alec Pierre_, and that his accent didn't slip in the slightest. He groaned again, and let his head drop to his hands. Tiredness and pain from the seizure, and on top of that, he had to pull off being someone he wasn't.

Fun.

Ben misinterpreted his groan, and patted him on the shoulder. "It's not _that_ bad. They're just wanting to figure out the best way to control your seizures, and understanding _why_ you had another one plays a big role in that. Besides, they did warn you."

Alex turned a glare on Ben. He had already said _'I told you so_'. There was no reason to bring that point out again. Something told Alex he would be hearing the same line of thought from his doctor as well. It wasn't like he could just shout his problems to the world, and expect his mind to fix itself. Not after his experiences with psychologists and mental health _specialists_... he was determined that _no one_ could help him.

"Of course, I presume about half of what you tell them will be lies." Ben smirked again. "I have yet to see you get through one appointment without lying about something."

"Wouldn't believe me if I told the truth."

"You're probably right..."

"Besides, the real question is—" Alex slipped into his French accent, taking extra care in pronouncing the words. "—will _Alec Pierre_ really feel like talking to anyone?" The accent faltered on the last word, and Alex frowned slightly. _Not_ a good sign...

Ben laughed. "I'm sure _Alec Pierre_ will figure things out. A few more hours of sleep should help considerably. I think it helps more than you realize."

Alex shrugged as he finished off his tea. Absentmindedly, he had munched his way through a second piece of toast as well. Satisfied and starting to grow sleepy again, he headed back to his room, barely sparing a glance in Ben's direction.

It was strange to think that just a few hours earlier, he had sat at the table in the middle of the night—more like early morning—drinking tea, and trying his hardest to forget the latest nightmare. Now he was just plain exhausted, dealing with the soreness of his muscles and the fact that he _still_ couldn't remember everything right up until the seizure. From what he remembered of the seizures in the hospital, the minutes surrounding the start of the seizure never came back.

For once, he almost wished to be dealing with the nightmares...

* * *

><p>Alex smoothed his face into calmness. Everything was fine. There was no reason, whatsoever to be tense. Well... aside from that <em>thing<em> wrapped around his arm. But that was supposed to be there. As normal as anything else in the room.

He couldn't stop the slight wince, when he felt the needle prick his skin and enter his arm. As many times as he had gone through the process, both in hospitals and during routine appointments, he couldn't get used to the sensation. Couldn't get rid of the memories that it inadvertently brought up.

The nano-shells from SCORPIA, cleverly disguised as a routine injection, ready to kill him at a moment's notice. Something he had _never_ suspected. And _Myra Beckett_. The paralyzing drugs _she_ had used to smuggle him out of the country. He had been aware, but unable to do _anything_.He barely stopped a shudder from appearing as the memories washed over him. He needed to redirect his thoughts...

"Not a fan of needles?" The nurse asked. She was the friendly type, and had seemed enamored with her foreign patient. He didn't think it was wise to mention that she was easily twice his age...

"Not really..." He opened his eyes and tried not to look at the needle entering his arm and draining his blood. _Happy thoughts, happy thoughts_... "Bad experience with a... _friend_ and needles." If those people could be considered _friends_.

The nurse smiled at him, not catching the trail of his thoughts, and fiddled with the tubing coming from the needle. "Well, we're almost done here. Just another tube."

Alex closed his eyes again and leaned back against the chair. Just another few minutes and he'd be free again. Well... free to go back to the flat with Ben. He had sat through his appointment, barely restraining himself from glaring daggers at the doctor the entire time. Yes, the seizure had left him as wiped out as the first few times, and yes, he understood that not getting enough sleep was reckless as far as keeping the seizures away was concerned, but _no_, the last thing he wanted to do was talk to _anyone_ about his apparent _mental health_ issues.

The doctor had made sure to hammer the point home that if he didn't get control of his nightmares—because Ben had all but forced Alex to tell the doctor that much—he was going to have trouble with seizures regularly, no matter how much medicine he took. _Epilepsy_—of any sort—did not respond well to sleep deprivation.

Now it seemed that the word _defined_ his life. He couldn't do things because of the _epilepsy_. He couldn't live on his own. Wasn't technically supposed to leave the flat by himself—though the fact that he did, despite his knee, he kept to himself. Ben didn't need to know _that_. He couldn't even deal with his nightmares in his own—if somewhat unhealthy—way, without having to worry about accidentally causing another _seizure_!

Of course, the doctor was doing all he could, with the little that Alex gave him. The urging to see a psychologist—or even a psychiatrist—went completely ignored by Alex though. He had no intention of going to a stranger and talking about himself. Forget patient confidentiality—_he_ would be breaking the OSA if he so much as talked to someone about it.

"Finished."

Alex opened his eyes again, surprised that he hadn't felt the nurse remove the band around his arm or pull the needle out. The only evidence that anything had happened, were the vials of blood that the nurse was labeling, and a small patch on his arm.

Done for the day.

"For someone that doesn't like needles, you've certainly got the calmness down."

Alex flashed a smile at the nurse, before leaning forward in the chair. "We're done?"

"Yep. Your doctor should call you within a day or two to inform you of the results."

_Thank goodness_. He immediately stood up and grabbed his crutches, before sending another smile toward the friendly nurse. On the inside, he was still exhausted, but for the few minutes that the blood draw took, he had been able to keep up an unaffected front. Well... _mostly_ unaffected...

Ben was in the waiting room, having taken the minutes that Alex was occupied to be grilled by the doctor. Alex hadn't exactly been thrilled by the prospect of Ben and his doctor tossing ideas around—or whatever it was that they were supposed to be doing—since more than likely it would be about _him_. Probably speculating about how they could get him to open up about the nightmares or consent to seeing a psychologist.

Whatever the case, he hadn't been able to stop the meeting from happening, and it was over now...

"Ready to go?" Ben asked.

"Yeah. Could've skipped the last part though."

Ben chuckled slightly, before holding the door open for Alex. It was cold out, and the sun had long since set and disappeared over the horizon. The smallest reminder that it was getting late, made Alex remember that he _really_ wanted to take another nap.

Somewhere between the doctor and the pharmacy, he dozed off, not waking until Ben had pulled into the parking space by his flat. A glance at the clock told him that it had taken them a substantially longer amount of time to get back than if they had just stopped at the pharmacy. Judging by the bags in the back seat, Ben had stopped and picked up some groceries somewhere along the way as well...

Ben shot him an amused look, before getting out of the car and gathering the bags together. He made it to the door first, and left it open for Alex. Though still tired, instead of heading back to his room, he collapsed on the couch. Might as well be somewhat sociable, especially if he wanted anything to eat.

"What do you want to eat?" Ben asked from the kitchen.

Alex shrugged, before realizing that Ben couldn't see him. "Don't know."

"How does soup sound?"

Alex shrugged again.

"Stop shrugging!" Ben called. "I can't see you from here. Verbal answers only, please. Or I'll make something you'll hate."

Alex grinned at the empty threat. "Sounds okay."

He heard Ben muttering to himself, and considered giving the man some company. He quickly shot the idea down when his muscles protested at just the _thought_ of moving around again. While the car had been comfortable—at least compared to the chairs at the doctor—it didn't have the same level of comfort as the couch.

He didn't feel quite as completely wiped out after the seizure as he had the other times, and wondered if it got better with time, or if it was merely chance at how bad it was. Maybe they wouldn't _all_ be so draining. Then again, he sincerely hoped that he wouldn't have _another_.

For the time being, he had extra preventative measures. The doctor had prescribed a new medicine to help him sleep, though it was only temporary. Sleeping pills could only be used for so long before adverse affects came across. His anti-seizure medicine had been increased as well, with the intent to keep the seizures away longer.

He'd have a few nights of peaceful rest, before he had to start thinking about the real world again.

After a while of near dozing, Ben called that the food was ready, and Alex headed into the kitchen. He wasn't too surprised to smell the slightly spicy aroma in the air, having long since found that Ben liked his food on the hotter end of spicy. Thankfully, Alex didn't really mind spicy food, as long as he had plenty of water on hand.

Ben placed two bowls on the table, and went to get some water as well. Alex took his seat, and tasted the soup experimentally. To his surprise, although it smelled spicy, it wasn't overwhelming. Ben put their glasses of water down, and they started eating.

After the ups and—mostly—downs of the day, Alex was glad to be able to relax again, without having to worry about his every move being watched. It was like he had rewound time by five days, to before Ben knew about the nightmares. He almost felt normal for a few seconds. The feeling of normal immediately disappeared when he spotted Ben's book on the edge of the table. Most likely from where he had left it that morning... "So... has SCORPIA done anything recently?"

Ben followed his gaze to the book and grinned. "I was wondering when you'd get back to that train of thought."

Alex glared at him.

"All right, all right..." He pulled the book over and tapped in the password. "Surprisingly—and rather worryingly as well—SCORPIA hasn't been very active in the past week. They seem to have retreated to the fringes, stopped with their full out attack on agents. Though that might be because the intelligence agencies are pulling any agents that had contact with them, back to base, making it significantly harder to get to them. It's also hard to connect the smaller attacks with SCORPIA." Ben shrugged, before flicking through a few more pages. "Really, the only thing of interest today wasn't from SCORPIA, just a random hacker that stopped the bullet trains in Japan for an hour. There was an attack by Simurgh yesterday though..." Ben trailed off.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "_Simurgh_?"

Ben waved it aside. "It's an organization like SCORPIA, but they haven't been active in years. Came back to life over the summer. They're not my line of expertise. And I _really_ shouldn't have told you that much."

From the set of his jaw, Alex knew Ben wasn't going to tell him anything more. No matter how much he asked. Of course, it was always possible that SCORPIA and Simurgh were working _together_... It _did_ seem that they had similar plans and goals. There was no doubt that the countries that the two groups targeted were already falling toward complete and utter chaos.

Though there seemed to have been breaks from outright terrorism—such as bombs and hostages—Alex had no doubt that that was carefully planned to add just the right amount of internal pressure to the countries. Particularly, those ready to break out in war at any moment. The ones balancing on the verge of political turmoil.

Other countries would be caught up in the mess as well—both neighboring and around the world. Citizens were sure to notice when influential leaders—throughout the world—started dropping dead. They might even protest that their government wasn't doing enough to protect their own.

Very few would notice the fact that there was a bigger picture. A _much_ bigger picture.

But what _was_ the bigger picture, aside from the fact that someone was pushing around metaphorical tiles on the board, and playing god with the human race. As far as Alex could see, there was no _benefit_. And that didn't fit SCORPIA. They wouldn't do _anything_ without some sort of benefit in it for them. Money. Power. Fear.

Nothing made sense...

Alex's thudding headache made itself known once again, and he realized that he should be heading to bed soon. He'd feel somewhat better in the morning, though not up to his usual standards, and it would be a much better time to ponder the question of _why_.

He was about to leave, when Ben interrupted his thoughts.

"So... your doctor."

Alex barely held back a groan. He _really_ didn't want to think about the doctor right now.

"He's almost positive—as am I—that you have a form of post traumatic stress disorder. He seems to think that it comes from your accident, since there's nothing on your medical records to indicate that you've had problems before. _I_ know better, but I didn't bother to correct him. The point is—your nightmares are going to cause more seizures."

"Not enough sleep." Alex glared at the table. "I know. He made that clear enough to me."

"What are you going to do about it?"

The question came as a slight surprise to Alex. Had it been anyone other than Ben, they probably would have been pressuring him to see a psychologist or something equally distasteful. Possibly even going as far as to _forc__e_ him. But Ben was asking him what he was going to do. The metaphorical ball was in his court.

The only problem was—Alex had no idea of _what_ he could do. Talking to a psychologist was definitely out of the question. It wasn't just that he _hated_ the thought of staring at another one before they gave him up as a useless case, but he _couldn't_ talk to someone that didn't already know his background.

The psychologists he had gone through in the space of seven weeks—most not lasting longer than a week of daily sessions—had tried to be understand him. Had _tried_. Alex was sure that between them, they had done more damage than helped.

He ended up shrugging.

Ben shot a look at him. "You have to do something. Or you won't only have to deal with nightmares, but regular seizures as well. I can't imagine you _enjoy_ feeling rundown all the time."

He'd never be cleared to live on his own again either. He wasn't sure _why_ that mattered so much to him. He could always leave once the crutches were gone, he didn't really have to _wait_ for the doctor to clear it. But without that reassurance that he was fine again, he was almost afraid to take off on his own. "I'm not going to talk to a psychologist."

"I didn't expect you'd want to."

Alex glared at Ben. "Well what else can I do?" He demanded, coming across harsher than he had meant to. He rubbed at his forehead, trying to wish away the headache. "I can't do _anything_ about it."

"Did it ever occur to you that you don't have to talk to a _psychologist_?"

"What? And find some random person on the street and pour my pitiful life story out to them? No thanks, I'd probably scar them for life."

Ben shook his head slowly. "No... not a random person. But maybe someone that might, in a way, know what you're going through. It's a nightmare from a traumatic event, it's not exactly _uncommon_."

Alex stared at him blankly. What was he getting at?

Ben swore under his breath, before fixing Alex with a glare. "For someone as smart as you are, I'm surprised how dense you act sometimes. _Anyone_ that works for MI6—hell, anyone that was in the SAS or military—knows what a nightmare from trauma is like. Whether they've had one, or witnessed someone else, _we_ understand."

For the first time since Alex had moved into the flat, Ben sounded completely exasperated. Frustrated that Alex was acting blind to what was in front of him. What exactly _was_ in front of him...?

Ben stood up, and cleared the table, speaking over his shoulder. "I'm not pretending to understand what's going on in your mind, not even half of it. I know you saw—and did—a lot of things that a teenager your age shouldn't, probably even some stuff that I wouldn't be able to handle well... But, I've gone to my share of psych appointments, and I understand your reluctance to bare your soul to someone that might not be very warm or inviting. They're not all like that though. And I've had my share of nightmares after a stressful mission, after a mission that certainly didn't go as planned.

"I _know_ that just hoping the nightmares will go away, won't work. Things will just escalate, until you're almost afraid of sleep itself because it means that the nightmares will have another chance to come back and torment you. I _understand_ this. Just... My offer still stands. If you ever figure out that you can talk to someone, to explain—and maybe rationalize—what's going on in your nightmares, just... just let me know." He ended on that slightly awkward note, pausing for a few minutes, before leaving the room.

Alex let his head fall to his hands. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to sleep. But Ben had a point.

* * *

><p>He stared at the piece of paper he had picked up somewhere along the morning. This had to be the most awkward moment in the history of awkward moments. Ben was watching him closely, but wasn't pressuring him in any way. It had been Alex's choice, after all.<p>

After three nights without a nightmare—or seizure—he had finally worked up his courage to see if what Ben was saying was true. If _talking_ really did help in some miniscule way. There was no way he could take medicine to help him sleep for the rest of his life. Eventually, his body would adapt to the changes and the nightmares would come back with no hope for reprieve. So he decided he _had_ to do _something_.

It had taken a whole day of hemming and hawing for Alex to actually work up his courage to get the question out in the open. _Can we talk?_ Ben didn't so much as ask for clarification, and Alex wondered if he had known and was just waiting for Alex to make the first move.

They had moved to the living room, and Alex had taken up the entirety of the couch, wanting a clear line of sight to the hall to his bedroom, just in case he wanted a way out. Ben had seemed to understand, and was sitting out of the way.

Alex glanced down at the piece of paper again, before ripping off a piece. "You realize that three out of five psychologists either quit voluntarily, or were forced out of their jobs because their reputation was ruined, because of me?" He took the smaller piece and started tearing off shreds. "One of them quit and was forced into bankruptcy when he tried to reveal me to the public. Just because he was unnerved by my history. Because I worked for the government." That had been the first psychologist in California, the one that had set the tune for the rest...

Ben shrugged, seeming completely unconcerned. "I don't expect you to tell me everything. That would probably take a lot longer than an afternoon. I'm not going to go shouting what you tell me to the rest of the world, since I understand your need for secrecy. Besides, I'm not a psychologist, so I'm not going to go quit my job just because of what you tell me."

"No... but you might want to murder Blunt and Jones."

"I promise—I won't do anything stupid. What's done is done, right?"

Alex nodded slightly. "Another quit after learning my age and more about the wide range of terrorists I managed to get angry. She quit her job, and moved her family to the other side of the country. As far as I know, she changed careers." He left out the fact that she had shown signs of paranoia before he had even met her the first time. Probably running from something in her past...

"I already know how old you are, and though I'm sure your list of terrorists is quite long, I'm already on SCORPIA's hit list, so it doesn't make much difference. Besides, you are—for all intents and purposes—_dead_. I don't think you have too much to worry about."

Alex bit his lip slightly, deciding not to mention how close he had come to being captured. He still wasn't sure if SCORPIA had really recognized him, or if they had gone after him because of his connection with the bar. There was always the possibility that Kleczka or Rosen had set SCORPIA on his trail, after how jumpy he had acted after they mentioned the name.

Ben sent him an expectant, yet mildly disinterested look.

"The fourth one I was sent to see, decided that the best place for me was a psychiatric hospital. Paranoia, clinical depression, severe social anxiety, avoidant personality disorder—" He scowled at the shreds of paper in his hand. "They did everything they could to give me a bad diagnosis. Didn't want me _free_ in the world..."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "How does that involve quitting?"

"_They_ had me on daily sessions, so I effectively scared away all the other patients I saw while I was there. Once they finally moved me to another psychologist, it wasn't too hard to make the walls come crumbling down."

"Oh... I guess you really don't like psychologists then."

"Not really, no." He tore off another strip of paper, and started tearing it to shreds. It was so much easier to not think about what he was saying when he at least had something to do with his hands.

"I'm not a psychologist, Alex, but I might be able to help some. Better than it sounds like they did. I think people there just wanted a label to put on you. I'm not judging, or even thinking, in those terms."

Alex shrugged slightly, methodically pulling tiny shreds off the edge of the paper. "How, though? You don't even know how everything got started in the first place, much less _what_ happened the last time. Do you even know that I was living in California?"

Ben nodded slightly. "Mrs. Jones told me just after my last assignment before the bombing. Well, that you had gone to California and were living with a family there. She had seemed satisfied that you were finally getting out of the espionage world."

"Do you know... _why_?" His voice nearly cracked, as the memories of the two weeks following... _her_ death, flooded in. _S__how __no __weakness_.

"No." Ben's voice was low. "No I don't. And I'm not forcing you to give me answers either."

"_They_ sent me there after my last mission. My _ninth_ mission. The first eight were all in the span of less than a year." His hands clenched into fists, as he pushed away the earlier memories. "Each time I was _saving the world. _Sayle, with smallpox virus in the Stormbreaker laptops. Dr. Grief, with his clones. Sarov with his plans for exploding nuclear submarines in Murmansk. Cray with his plans to launch missiles at drug-running countries... it was the same. Every. Single. Time."

Ben watched him with a neutral face. If the fact that those were just a _few_ of the missions Alex had been on, he didn't react. He seemed to be waiting. That alone urged Alex to continue.

"Simple missions. Nothing-could-possibly-go-wrong missions. Yet each time, people died because of whatever I did. But that's okay, they were just the _bad guys_." Scorn slipped into his voice, and he glared at the paper shreds quickly dusting his lap. He didn't bother to mention the times that people on _his side_ had died.

"People get killed in things like that." Ben said, slowly. "They knew what they were doing wasn't right and earned the consequences. It's what happens in war."

"Yeah?" He snapped at Ben, letting all his anger and frustration loose into the one word. "Well, Blunt needs to have his head checked, because he sent a fourteen year old into the midst of it. If _they_ had asked me to kill him instead of Mrs. Jones, I probably would have done so without a second thought."

There was an awkward pause, and Alex felt Ben staring at him. "Er... _who_?"

"Who do you think?" The words came flowing out before Alex could stop them, rushing out on a tide of annoyance and anger. "Not MI6, that's for sure. My other—_temporary_—employers. They wanted her dead, told me to do it, and I failed. I shot at her, but I missed. In the end, the people responsible... _died_."

He started tearing apart the paper again, this time with more vengeance, when he caught sight of Ben's shocked face. He hadn't meant for _that_ to come out. He didn't want Ben to know about _that_, about the reasons that he was intertwined with SCORPIA in the first place. If he had never gone to them, he would likely still be living his happy life in Chelsea, completely normal.

He stilled his face into blankness, not wanting anything more to surface. He would trap the memories if he had to. "It doesn't matter. That was months ago..." He couldn't repress the shudder that rose up. Months ago, yes. Just before the world of espionage put its mark on him for life. "MI6 stopped using me last February, after the incident in Africa. I think Mrs. Jones pressured Blunt into not using me. I had missed so much school that finishing the year was looking doubtful. Ja-Jack was glad not to have to worry about whether I was coming back or not."

He stumbled over her name, saying it aloud for the first time in months, as the memories of the blissful free months swept through him. Or somewhat free. He had had nightmares even then, but they couldn't compare in intensity to what he felt now. The intense guilt he felt every time a nightmare woke him up. It was _his fault_ she was dead.

"Blunt took advantage of a situation, and decided that he wanted to use me again. A sniper took a shot at me while I was in school, got my friend... Blunt claimed that I wasn't safe anymore, used everything against me, just so I'd have no choice but to go to Cairo and stake out a school. Claimed that a _kidnapping_ could be possible. He played right into _their_ hands." He ran out of paper to shred, and mindlessly watched the fragments flutter to the ground. He didn't want to think about _it_. He didn't want to... "Sh-she demanded to go with me. An-and just because some insane person decided they wanted to study _pain_, _they_ killed _her_. T-to punish _me_..."

An uncomfortable feeling filled him as tears prickled at the edges of his eyes. _Bad idea_... He choked slightly, trying not to cry. He _wouldn't_ cry in front of Ben. He _wouldn't_.

"Sh-she wasn't supposed to be there. She only went because she was tired of staying behind and worrying about me all the time. It was supposed to be a stake out, watching people, watching the school. She wasn't supposed to ge-get hurt!" He barely caught the choked sob that tried to make its way through his barriers. "They said we were safe. Sa-safe, right up until Ja-Jack got kidnapped, and _Julius_ came back to life and decided to destroy mine for a change.

"He _forced_ me to watch, _forced_ me to see her attempt to escape. _Forced_ me to watch an identical copy of myself blow her up. I can't even tell _who_ presses the button in the nightmare, me or him." He wanted to stop, but now that he had gotten going, he felt like he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. "She trusted me. Th-thought I could get her out of there. An-and I killed her." He clenched his hands, trying to beat back the tight sensation in his chest. His mouth moved before he could fully think about it. "It's what always happens. Anyone who trusts me always dies." _And I can't trust anyone either_. "My fault. All, my fault."

This time he couldn't stop the shudders, the tears. There was nothing he could do. He had never felt so low and worthless before, so undeserving of any form of pity. No one could understand that he would have gladly given his life, if only it meant that Jack could have gone back home to her family.

"Sh-she was going to leave, before Ian died. MI6 got to me first. They threatened to de-deport her if I didn't work for them. _Blackmail_. I was so stupid. So _selfish_. Every single time, they threatened me, unless I did what they asked. I hated it." He clenched his teeth, trying to get though the last part of the story, so Ben would finally leave him alone. So Ben would know just how much of a selfish and cowardly person he really was. "When we went to Cairo... we were normal for once. Until they killed her. _I killed her_." _Murderer. Murderer. Murderer_. He shook, trying to push the thoughts away. Of Julius taunting him mercilessly. Jack hated him. It was _his fault_.

He jumped when a hand rested on his shoulder. "Alex, tell me about Jack." Ben had moved so that he was almost sitting next to Alex on the couch. "Tell me about her, before Cairo."

Alex stared at his hands, trying to dredge up the happy memories. The memories that hadn't been tainted by the horrid memories. "She was my hou-housekeeper. Ian hired her when I was seven to be a permanent babysitter. She just stayed on. She kept the house from falling down around us whenever Ian had to go on his unexpected _business trips_. Right up until he died, we thought Ian was a _banker_."

He still felt betrayed that Ian hadn't trusted him with that information. That Ian had practically been living a lie, and had brought Alex up in it. He hated the fact that the _bank_ had been his legal guardian, not Jack, or even a real person. Instead, it had been something that _used_ him. Essentially _poisoned_ him.

"She stuck with me. Even when I was all tied up in the MI6 mess. Every time I found myself falling behind in classes, she helped me. Or found someone to help me. Nothing made her angrier than seeing someone else trying to dictate my life. Sending me on _'suicidal missions'_. Especially after _they_ tried to kill me." As if a deserving reminder, his bullet wound throbbed painfully. "She's probably the stubbornest person I've ever met. She almost always acted cheerful, even when she had a really good reason not to be. She hated to see people hurting, and she always got so riled up whenever I was in the hospital. An-and she had a temper like any redhead when someone got in her way. She convinced Blunt and Jones to let her go to Egypt." His throat choked up again. "I should've stopped her." This time he couldn't stop the tears that fell over the edge, the relentless empty feeling that came whenever he thought of _her_.

"Hey..." Ben rubbed his back, seeming to attempt to soothe him. "It's not your fault."

"I should've... should've done _something_. She wasn't supposed to be _there_! She was supposed to stay safe. _Ma faute__._" He felt the lump in his throat, but couldn't push it away. Couldn't stop his lip from quivering, or the shaking that had taken over his body.

"Not, it's not." Ben took him firmly by the shoulders. "Listen to me. You can't blame yourself for something that you had absolutely no control over. From what you said, I don't think you could have said anything to dissuade Jack from going with you. Do you think she would have been happy if you had demanded she stay behind? To _protect_ her? If she was stubborn, I doubt that a little thing like potential danger could have changed her mind. _She_ wanted to protect _you_."

Alex nodded numbly, not really believing the words though. If Jack had known anything, she would have never wanted to protect _him_. Who would want to protect someone that had killed so many times over?

"I don't think you understand..." Ben sighed. "What happens in your nightmares? You see them murder Jack?"

Alex shrugged slightly, fighting back the tears. "Sometimes. It's... it changes. But... but _Jack_... an-and everyone else that's dead. They're there. Sh-she says it's my fault. Julius too..."

"She wanted you safe. I don't think she would blame you for something you had no control over. I think she'd be glad to know that you're alive—not giving up. She wouldn't want you to let your nightmares dictate your life. She wouldn't want you to quit living just because she's gone."

"But she shouldn't be! She should be back in D.C. with _her_ family. No one... no one would have noticed if I never came back... _she'd_ be safe." He trailed off in a small voice, thinking of all the times that they had planned to go to the states to visit her parents. Her family. So many times, their plans had been thrown askew because he had been pulled out on a mission or he was in some hospital recovering from the latest batch of injuries. They had never had the chance. The choking feeling came up again, and he barely managed to get out one more sentence. "_I miss her_." The unwanted tears flowed over, and he found that he couldn't stop.

Unexpectedly, Ben pulled him closer, until he was in a half hug. Alex was too far over the edge to even think about pushing Ben away, and even then, he wasn't sure if he would. Ben hadn't outright rejected him, even when the cold-hard truth that Alex was a killer was right in front of him. Had instead tried to convince him otherwise.

Alex wasn't ready to trust. Not yet. Not when there were so many conflicting emotions coming in at once. But maybe, just maybe, he'd finally be able to take a step toward getting better. A step toward regaining his sense of trust in humanity... and in himself.

* * *

><p>After his <em>emotional breakdown<em>, things had gotten significantly better for Alex. A week of sleeping through the night, no nightmares, and no seizures, did wonders for him. While Ben hadn't exactly said anything _groundbreaking_, his persistence at getting the fact through that Jack had wanted nothing more than to see him safe, had gone a long way to helping.

After a week, Alex quit using the sleeping pills, determined to bring the nightmares under control again. He hated feeling dependent on any sort of medicine—even the medicines he had to take for the seizures. The first nights without the pills were rough. Ben had woken him only hours after he had fallen asleep, breaking him out of the nightmare. Alex had nearly screamed, before recognizing Ben. The sobs then had been relentless, and he had clung to the only form of support he had. It seemed that after opening up once, he had let Ben into his personal space. Accepting.

From there, the nightmares had started to decrease in intensity. Slowly he got so that if a nightmare _did_ wake him, he could fall back asleep relatively easily after a cup of tea and thinking things through with Ben. After the first time, it was easier to open up, especially when he didn't receive the rejection his subconscious had expected.

That next week had also brought around some changes. Ben had started going back to work and Alex had been released from his crutches, with strict instructions to use them again if he started to limp at all. With Ben out of the house, he had spent more time in the neighboring park—so long as it wasn't raining. He hadn't told Ben about his excursions, afraid that the he might try to stop him. It was reckless, but he enjoyed the feeling of freedom he felt whenever he was out in the air.

It hadn't taken him very long to find a secluded place at the park, a place where he could disappear and let his guard down. Well... mostly let his guard down—he did have the iPod from Smithers to alert him of anyone nearby. He had also taken to swiping a gun from the kitchen on the way out, now that he didn't have to worry about the crutches. He finally felt like he could protect himself. The only problem was, he still couldn't run...

February came, and Alex _felt_ like things were finally getting better. He could walk around without having to worry about balancing on one leg. It had been more than two weeks since the seizure, and he was no longer feeling the stubborn aftereffects. _And_ the nightmares were nowhere near as violent as they had once been. Definitely better.

Alex shook the last of the water out of his hair, after re-dyeing it with the dye that Ben had brought back from work the past week. It was one of Smithers' inventions that made switching hair colors as easy as washing his hair. Eventually, his hair would grow out again, and he'd be able to go from black to blonde to red in a matter of minutes—perfect if he was going to leave the country on a moment's notice. He liked that prospect, though he couldn't see himself going back to blonde any time soon. He had grown used to the black hair over the past few months. It fit _Alec_.

He pulled the sweatshirt on, rummaged in his bedside drawer for his glasses, and grabbed the iPod and his bag, before heading to the kitchen. He had gotten into the habit of leaving a note behind, just in case Ben came home early.

_Gone out for a few hours. Be back by six. –Alec_

And in case someone else came into the flat—someone that wasn't supposed to be there—they wouldn't know that _Alex_ lived there. Just _Alec_. So far, Ben had never seen the note, and Alex planned to keep it that way for as long as possible.

He tucked the gun from one of the drawers so that it was out of sight, grabbed the keys off the counter, and headed out. Though the clouds looked somewhat threatening, the forecast said that it wasn't supposed to start raining until later that evening. Which meant Alex would be able to get out for at least a few hours before he had to head back.

Just because the weather looked threatening though, didn't mean that the park was empty. There were others, mostly runners, taking advantage of the last few hours of dryness. There was no telling if the rain would only last a few hours, or a few days...

He passed the bench that looked out over the lake—really, it was just a large _pond_—slightly amused at how far he had come over the past few weeks. Then, he had barely reached the bench without being exhausted. It was strange to think that that had been almost an entire month earlier. He should have been looking at his last few weeks with Ben, by now.

He headed around the lake, toward the side where he had his hideaway. It was the perfect resting spot, out of view from anyone else in the park, and just halfway around the lake. On most days, he managed to catch a few minutes of sleep out there. He had yet to see anyone else come any further than the dock, minus one or two birders here and there. Nothing to be worried about.

His hideaway not only had the advantage of being in the midst of a copse of trees, blocking anyone from seeing him, but it cut down on the amount of wind. A natural wind barrier. Just because he felt safe in the trees though, didn't mean he didn't take a meandering route in. He slunk through the shadows of the trees, crisscrossing through scraggly bushes and over boulders whenever possible. Each time gave him a slightly different route, and he was slowly working to fill in his mental map of the park.

After circling his hideaway four times, Alex figured that there probably wasn't anyone else out in the trees that he needed to worry about. And more than likely, he'd hear them before they ever saw him. There were four large boulders, about six feet high, forming a circle. In the center, out of sight from all angles except above, there was a cleared patch just large enough for him to disappear into. Although he still had the annoying—and bulky—brace on his knee, that make it impossible to sit on the ground, there was a natural outcropping on one of the rocks at just the right height for him to sit on.

For the moment he was safe, secure, and had no worries. Even if someone wandered nearby, they weren't going to find him.

* * *

><p>After more than three hours of alternating between dozing against the rock and reading through the history textbook he had brought along, the alert tone on the iPod rang in his headphones. Alex had set it to alert him if anyone with an electronic device got within a hundred meters of his hiding spot.<p>

Sure enough, after stilling his breathing for a moment, he heard the telltale crack as someone stepped on a branch. What surprised him though, was the muffled swearing that followed. From there, the woods went silent again. The next sound came from somewhere significantly closer—the shrill tone of a mobile ringing.

The swearing wasn't so muffled this time, but Alex still couldn't make out what they were saying. He pulled out the iPod, put the headphones in, and flicked through the music selection. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata activated the listening device, amplifying the sound in whatever direction he pointed the iPod toward—once he hit the pause button between ten and fifteen seconds.

_"—waiting for the... show up... secure..."_

It took him a few moments to find the proper direction, since he had to be careful not to let any part of his body come from out behind the rock. He had no clue if the person was friendly or not. Something told him that he didn't want to know either.

_"—people all over this forest. There's no way... get away without handing it..."_ Alex shifted his aim a little more to the right, and the sound immediately became clearer. _"_—_deactivated. He won't be able to broadcast back to his team."_ There was a long pause, and Alex guessed that the person was listening to the voice from his mobile. Smithers' gadgets might be good, but they weren't _that_ good.

A shrill bird call rang through the trees, and Alex wouldn't have thought it was out of place, except for the fact that the man immediately ended his call.

They had _c__ompany_.

"Ah, Mr. Ross, wasn't it?" A voice called out, and Alex didn't even need to worry about _trying_ to listen. The person speaking certainly didn't expect to have an eavesdropper. "I thought we agreed that you didn't need to bring _all_ your backup. I'm just one person. Though I must admit, I'm slightly flattered."

"Hands on your head." The person that had been on the phone, presumably the _Mr. Ross_, barked out the command. _Ross_... the name was familiar for some reason. "Don't even think about reaching for your gun. My men will shoot you if you so much as _twitch_."

Alex swallowed hard. He had no idea what he had inadvertently gotten mixed up in, but something told him that it was very _not good_. If Ross was willing to shoot the other person, then there was no doubt that if Alex was found, they wouldn't hesitate to shoot him either. Carefully, he slipped the textbook back inside his bag, and hunkered down behind the rock, hoping that he hadn't missed a vantage point.

"You disappoint me, Mr. Levendis." Ross said, and Alex flinched away when two metallic objects hit the other side of his protective stone. They seemed to be getting closer. "Only a gun and a knife? Hoping to get lucky, were you?"

"Hoping to get out alive." Levendis said. "I didn't want you double crossing me. The agreement was for you to give me the information—message, whatever—and then I'd be free to leave."

"Double crossing? _MI5_ double crossed us first." Ross spat the words out, with vehemence. "You _did not_ come alone, like agreed. Your team, as well as backup, is on the other side of this forest, waiting for your signal, to come take us down. _Simurgh_ does not double cross. We leave that to the government bastards. Luckily, we came prepared."

_MI5._

_ Simurgh_.

Simurgh was the criminal organization Ben had compared to SCORPIA. They were the other group that the government was keeping an eye on. Suspected of supporting the minor terrorist groups and guiding their movements in coordinated strikes. The group that Ben had been frustratingly vague about only weeks earlier. But what was MI5 doing with them... and why were they meeting _here_?

"You are surrounded on all sides." Ross said. "There are over twenty men situated in the forest, as well as twenty watching your team. If they get within our perimeter, they will be shot indiscriminately. Unfortunately for you, you won't be able to communicate with them, to inform them of this. All outgoing signals have been jammed, including that little wire tap you're wearing. It is in your best interest to cooperate with us."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Levendis asked. "And I brought the information too. Though my superiors wonder why you couldn't have found it on the public space."

"Unreliable."

"And you trusted us?"

"It's in your best interest."

Alex flinched when he heard the sharp sound of a knife on the rock. Ross and Levendis seemed to have drifted significantly closer, until Alex was almost afraid of breathing too loud. He waited for the two to start talking again, before slipping his bag over his shoulder and withdrawing the gun from his pocket. He had no idea if things were going to get ugly or not. At least this way, he'd have a fighting chance. The only problem was, he _couldn't_ run. He just had to hope that the people wouldn't find him.

"I'm sure you've figured out by now that the situation in Tunisia, Algeria, Egypt, and Yemen, isn't coming about without some certain..." Ross chuckled slightly. "_Guidance_ from higher up. _Simurgh_ has their hand in everything. The strike at the Domodedovo Airport in Russia was done _with guidance_, though it had nowhere near the effect as the Heathrow bombing. Shame really."

Ben had mentioned that a few days earlier. It wasn't the first attack at that airport though. He hadn't said it was connected to Simurgh either... He hadn't mentioned Simurgh in days... Was it possible that this was the proof that Simurgh was responsible for the Heathrow bombing, not SCORPIA?

"Only a few days ago, things have started to break out in Côte d'Ivoire. It will only be a matter of weeks before turmoil encompasses that country as well. Just yesterday, Ireland announced that their general elections were to be held on the twenty-fifth. A _guiding hand_, I tell you. Soon, these countries will be under _Simurgh_ control."

"So you're telling us to look out, then?" Levendis sounded mildly amused. "Or are you claiming responsibility for the Heathrow bombing? Because I know some people that would very much like to know the answer to that. And the reasons _why_."

"Simurgh has had an interest in your country since the downfall of our sister corporation. Wrongs must be righted."

Alex pressed up against the rock, trying to calm both his racing heart and ragged breathing. _Downfall of their sister corporation_... That could be SCORPIA.

"Hand over the information on the Heathrow bombing and security footage, and I will not kill you. Serve as a warning to your people. Who knows, maybe you'll be able to _save_ your country from our _guidance_."

The silence lengthened, and Alex jumped when someone—Ross most likely—fired a shot. There was no groan of pain, so he presumed it was a warning.

"Hand over the information." Ross demanded.

_Just do it!_ Alex mentally urged the man to do it. If he didn't, there was that much higher of a chance that Alex wouldn't get away unscathed. As it was, it was going to be significantly harder to get out of the forest without anyone seeing him.

"Passenger list for flight 284, from New York. List of casualties, both confirmed and unconfirmed. Security footage from outside of Gate 13, one hour before the bomb." Levendis sounded resigned. "All on a flash drive with no security features, whatsoever. Test it out if you want."

"Oh, I will." There was the sound of someone walking, and another person joined the group. After a few moments of deathly silence, Alex could hear the faint buzz of a computer starting up. After a few more minutes, Ross made a pleased sound.

"Very good, Levendis. It seems that your people have learned some in the years since our last foray. Send my condolences to Nikolai; he must be devastated after his wife's death in the bombing. It's a shame that we couldn't meet again though." Ross chuckled quietly, obviously enjoying some sort of private joke. "You best get out of here, Levendis. Remove your team from the park. You never know what might blow up if you stay around too long." There were two more gunshots, this time punctuated by a sharp cry from Levendis. "Better _run_."

Levendis growled a few choice words toward Ross, before running footsteps faded into the distance. The trees fell silent. Only the faint buzz of the computer told Alex that the others were still present and still nearby. He'd have to wait until they were gone, and then take his chances with getting out of the forest. How he could get from such a relaxing afternoon in the woods away from his worries, to the middle of what seemed like some MI5 clandestine meeting, he wasn't quite sure. He seemed to have a talent for getting into rough situations.

He stayed frozen where he was for nearly fifteen minutes, waiting. Ross and company were still right on the other side of the rock, along with the knife and gun that had been taken from the agent. Eventually, the buzz from the computer stopped, velcro ripped, and the sound of metal on metal drifted through the air. He was back to needing the iPod to hear the noises though.

A mobile rang. _"__Bale. Panj baød-az-zohr."_ Ross started speaking rapidly in a language that Alex neither knew nor understood. He pressed the record button, hoping to catch as much as the conversation as possible. What the recording would be useful for, he wasn't sure. Maybe Ben would know what to do... but that would mean _telling_ Ben...

Glancing at the time though, Alex knew there was no way he was keeping it from Ben. Ben would already be home, would already have seen the note, and would—most likely—be waiting to pounce on Alex the moment he stepped inside the flat again. _Trouble._

Ross talked for about five minutes before closing the mobile with a snap. "Head back to base. East side first, I don't want them trying anything. Listen for my signal. Ten minute intervals." Orders were relayed over radios, and only the slightest shift in the forest told Alex that people—twenty in all—were moving. That gave him an hour to wait...

An hour... now he just had to be quiet. It was like playing hide-and-go-seek. Only, the seekers had guns and didn't have enough morals to know not to shoot a fifteen year old. Life and death.

Oh, how fun.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: 20 pages. TWENTY. This is seriously looooooooong. I never thought I'd make a chapter this length, but the stopping point after talking to Ben just didn't feel right. I needed to get **_**some**_** action in there, even if most of it was blocked by a rock...**

**So, thoughts? Comment****s? Did I do okay with the Ben/Alex nightmare confrontation? Maybe Alex can start acting a little more _normally_... What did you think of Ross (h****e's actually in the books!)? ****Levendis****? I figured since MI5 deals with threats **_**at home**_** (instead of internationally), they'd be okay with giving the bad guys some **_**useless**_** information. If you're wondering _why_ they did that, just remember, _'They're double crossing bastards'_ :D**

**Now s****omething you might have noticed—some of the events that have happened in the greater world ****in this story, are **_**real**_** events (though I highly doubt that some terrorist corporation is guiding the movements). While they did happen, I'm only using them as a baseline for the political and public turmoil of the world—and adding my own twist (namely the guiding hand aspect). ****Oh, and ****Ireland **_**really**_** did call for general elections on February 1****st**** 2011****... just a random fact.  
><strong>

**So, my lovely reviews and readers, this story has reached a milestone. We passed two hundred reviews! I'm flatter****ed**** that you like the story **_**that**_** much, and sincerely hope that you stick around to the end, no matter how far away it might seem. Honestly, I don't quite know how far we are from the end... On that note, please keep the reviews coming in, because already you guys have redirected my trail of thoughts, and helped me remember Alex's personality (from the beginning of the story)****!**

**S.B.L.**


	20. Ross

**Disclaimer:** _I'm tired. Can we just agree that I do not own Alex Rider? As much as I might wish I did, I don't._**  
><strong>

_**Previously...**  
><em>

_Glancing at the time though, Alex knew there was no way he was keeping it from Ben. Ben would already be home, would already have seen the note, and would—most likely—be waiting to pounce on Alex the moment he stepped inside the flat again._ Trouble.

_Ross talked for about five minutes before closing the mobile with a snap. "Head back to base. East side first, I don't want them trying anything. Listen for my signal. Ten minute intervals." Orders were relayed over radios, and only the slightest shift in the forest told Alex that people—twenty in all—were moving. That gave him an hour to wait..._

_An hour... now he just had to be quiet. It was like playing hide-and-go-seek. Only, the seekers had guns and didn't have enough morals to know not to shoot a fifteen year old. Life and death._

_Oh, how fun._

**CHAPTER 20: Ross**

* * *

><p>The temperature had dropped significantly in the past hour that Alex had been waiting. He was just <em>barely<em> keeping himself from shivering, and was glad for the protection from the slight wind that had picked up. He had been listening closely, and hadn't heard anything from the surrounding area in over forty minutes. If he did it right, he would be able to get out without coming into contact with Simurgh—or MI5.

Unfortunately, as much as he wished he could have taken his time getting out of the trees, if he wasn't back at the flat in half an hour, Ben was going to come looking for him—and/or do something extremely stupid, like contact MI6.

Cursing his luck, Alex cautiously crawled over the boulder, scanning the area as he went. Positive that no one was going to jump out at him at that moment, he slid down the side of the rock, taking care to land on his good leg. He kept the gun down by his waist, scanning his surroundings for anything that looked even slightly out of place. It seemed that they had taken the gun and knife with them... but of course they wouldn't just leave potential evidence lying around.

Seeing nothing, he started to walk toward the lake, where the people with Simurgh were supposed to have already cleared out. He would come out slightly further away from the flat than usual, but he had a better chance at escaping unscathed. His knee throbbed slightly, from being held in such a stiff position for so long, and he worked hard to keep a limp out of his step. The physical therapist would _kill_ him if he did something to setback his progress.

For each five or so steps, he checked the area around him for anything that could possibly be out of place. It was a painstakingly slow process, and he couldn't help but know that every minute, every second, brought him closer and closer to when Ben would start looking. When Ben would start really wondering if he was coming back, or if something had happened.

Well... _something_ had certainly happened.

His goal of the edge of the trees was almost within sight when the iPod let out a quiet chirp. Alex froze, before cautiously moving to where there were a set of trees and bushes that gave him some cover. The fact that he couldn't crouch or kneel—or lie down on the ground and have any sort of hope of getting up again—certainly made him hope that it was merely a false alarm. There was no way that the trees he was hiding behind could give him much more than a small amount of bullet protection.

If only the iPod had a heat sensor... then he wouldn't have to worry about false alarms...

After spending three of his precious minutes waiting, Alex slowly pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up, scanned the area once more, and proceeded forward cautiously. There were a few telltale signs here and there that someone had tromped through the area, not bothering to hide their tracks, and Alex zigzagged through the quickly lessening brush, trying to keep from following any one set of tracks.

_Fifteen minutes..._

A glimmer caught his attention, and he almost froze again, before realizing that it was the lake. His goal was in sight, and he was that much closer to making it back on time. _Almost free._ At least around the lake he could pretend to be a regular person, out enjoying the nature—being oblivious to the sound of guns in the trees, of course...

Though probably if anyone saw him with a gun, it wouldn't exactly go over that well... as a precaution, in case someone saw him, he tucked the gun into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, keeping his finger around the trigger, just in case. Now that he had nearly reached the lake, there would hopefully be no need for _protecting_ himself.

"Alec Pierre, wasn't it?"

Alex froze, mid-step. _No one_ knew him by that name, save the doctors in the hospital, his _old_ employer, and Ben. It certainly wasn't any of them.

"It is, isn't it? What a surprise this is!" It took Alex only a fraction of a second to identify the voice, since he had heard it only an hour earlier. _Ross_. "You know, we've been looking for you. You might be a ghost in the city, but you seem to have forgotten some of those dear patrons at the _Emerald Badger_. Some of them were more than willing to give a description when pressured." The man chuckled slightly, before his tone grew taunting. "Come now, Pierre, at least look at me. The game's over now. We've gone through a lot of trouble to try to find you, I'm sure my superiors will be glad for the _good news_."

Though he had been startled, Alex carefully composed his face into an innocent and confused expression, making sure to keep the fact that he had a gun hidden. His mind was already racing for ideas on how to get out of the situation as he turned around, but all thought stopped the moment he saw who Ross was.

_Gordon Ross—SCORPIA trainer at Malagosto. T__echnical specialist__. __I__nstinctive firing instructor.__ Native to Glasgow._

"I hope you know the amount of trouble you've caused my superiors, Pierre. Rezaei was one of our best, a brilliant tactician and had connections you can't even dream of. Surprisingly, it appears that you got him easily, just shot and dumped him in the river." Ross's tone took on a significantly more foreboding tone. "You might be a good addition to our cause... or you might make an excellent martyr for anyone trying to cross our path."

_Rezaei_? Shot? Was he referring to _Muscles_, the man that had showed up at the Emerald Badger? Alex worked hard not to let the uneasiness cross his face. Ross was an expert. He would be able to see through a poorly made disguise as if it were glass. Emotions fitting for _'__Alec the innocent Frenchman'_ were the only ones he could show. "I do not know... what you are talking about." He slowed his words down, so he sounded tired. Added with the noticeable French accent, it made _Alec_ seem _average_.

Ross laughed. "Oh, you do, _Monsieur Pierre_." His voice turned mocking. "Rezaei saw you at that pub. He _knew_ there was something off about the nervous barkeep. Too nervous for the average person that shouldn't know what a SCORPIA tattoo is. I'm sure if we looked hard enough, we could find you somewhere on their rolls."

It was all Alex could do to keep from shaking on the spot. _Calm. Confusion. No fear._ "SCORPIA? Simurgh?" He tilted his head slightly, a puzzled expression on his face. "I don't—?"

Ross cut him off with a snarl. "_Do not_ try to act naïve, Pierre. It gets you nowhere." The man stalked forward until he was standing just outside of kicking or reaching distance. He knew better than to invite himself for attack. "Rezaei confirmed that he had you, to bring you in for questioning and possible recruitment. Three days later his body was pulled from the Thames, with a bullet in his skull. _That_ didn't get there by chance."

There were three gun shots, from a neighboring part of the trees, yet still out of sight. They both knew that their time was running out. Alex knew that Ross was going to either try to capture him, or kill him. Either way, it was not something he wanted. If Ross didn't know already, he would know soon enough that Alec Pierre was really Alex Rider.

And then there would be torture...

"You have potential, and I'm sure that you can see the side of our cause. Simurgh is just doing _'what is best for the world_.'"

Alex swallowed, biting back a retort. This was one situation where his cheekiness was more likely to get him killed. And he didn't exactly fancy dying right then and there... though when he had actually come to care about _living_ he wasn't quite sure.

"They are willing to be lenient. Willing to forget your past sins. Come quietly, or you _will_ be turned into a martyr right here and now."

_Breathe in._

_ Breathe out._

There was no way Alex was going to let himself be taken, and he certainly wasn't going to _join_ them. Just because they _thought_ they knew what was best for the world, didn't mean that it actually _was_. He was tired of people trying to use him, and wanted nothing more than to disappear. He wanted people to forget him, not continue to hunt him down...

Slowly, he lowered his head and eyes, pretending to be the submissive person he wasn't. He had to move before Ross grew impatient, but needed an opening. He couldn't save himself with nothing.

Another set of gunshots went off, steadily getting closer and closer. As far as Alex could tell, Ross didn't even twitch. "Why..." He trailed off, staring at the ground. He almost felt like he was yelling _'underestimate me!'_ at the man.

Ross's posture relaxed by a fraction on a degree, something that anyone but a trained professional would have missed. But Alex _was_ a professional, to an extent. He could read the subtle body language, and acted upon the slight opening. Before he even had consciously thought through what he was doing, he had already acted. He had pulled the gun out, not even bothering to aim, and fired. He didn't need to confirm that he had hit his target; the thump of the body on the ground confirmed that.

He didn't bother to give himself time to think about what had just happened. Recurring gunshots were slowly making their way closer, and soon enough he'd find himself in the midst of an all out firefight between Simurgh and MI5. He pivoted on his good leg, before walking as fast as he could toward the lake. He hadn't even made it _there_...

_Focus on getting away_.

With that goal in mind, he pressed forward doing his best not to limp, or break out running, or even _thinking_ about what had just happened. He had to get away...

Alex nearly missed hearing the shouts coming from the trees closest to where Ross's... _body_ was. As soon as he registered the sounds though, he picked up the pace again. He had no clue if they were Simurgh or MI5, but he had no wish to get mixed up with either of them. Simurgh would definitely be after him now—certainly _not_ for recruitment—and there was no way his identity would pass MI5 standards. They'd probably have him tagged as a forged name in a matter of minutes, and have him sitting in a cell until he told them otherwise.

The sound of more guns going off, and even more shouting, told him that he needed to get out of the park sooner rather than later.

Instead of taking his normal route beside the lake, he stuck to the trees, climbing through bushes and anything else that gave him any sort of semblance of protection. It didn't matter that the branches of some of the trees were stubborn and attacked his face, all that matter was getting out relatively unscathed—and without being noticed.

Besides. He only had five minutes to get back to the flat before he was late.

Ben was going to kill him...

* * *

><p>By the time Alex made it back to the flat, he was swearing up and down that he would never <em>ever<em> voluntarily step foot outside of the flat without making sure he had a fully loaded gun, more than eight hours before he had to be somewhere—perhaps a bulletproof vest as well—and plenty of water. _Plenty. _He felt like going into the kitchen and drowning himself in water. Well... maybe not _drown..._

Ben's car was _obviously_ sitting in its space, and Alex wasn't quite sure if that was a good or bad sign... He glanced at his watch and saw that he had about thirty seconds to get in, before he was officially ten minutes late. He had pushed it coming back from the park, just on the verge of running, and honestly hoped that he hadn't hurt himself in the process. If he had, then there was all the more reason for Ben to kill him.

He slipped the key into the lock, knowing that even when Ben was home he kept everything locked up, and attempted to turn the handle as silently as possible. The door didn't even squeak when he pushed it open, and he looked in cautiously, almost expecting Ben to be waiting for him. With no sign of the man, he edged in and closed the door as silently as possible, before turning around to lock it. If he could at least get cleaned up a little, Ben might not overreact. Too much...

Turning back around, his heart sank immediately.

Ben was standing in the hall, leaning against the wall, with a blank and impassive face. Alex had only seen him pull that look once, and it meant that he was very _not happy_. "Enjoy your walk?" Had it been said with any other expression, Alex would have thought that Ben was just casually asking a question.

"Er..."

"You do realize what time it is, right?"

Alex swallowed. Not the best time to make a quip about Ben acting overly parental... "Ten past?"

"Your _note_ said you'd be back by six. _Alec_." He placed a strange emphasis on the word _Alec_. "Tu ferais mieux d'avoir une bonne excuse." _You better have a good excuse_.

He stared at Ben for a moment, puzzled by both the name and the language... "J'en ai une." _I do_. His eyes roamed the hall, looking for some sign for why Ben was acting so... _suspiciously_. Slight scuff marks on the floor, a frame on the wall was slightly ajar, the couch was pushed out further than usual... and the door leading to the kitchen was shut. They _never_ shut the door. "Nous avons des invités." _We have guests_. Alex had to stop himself from instinctively edging toward the front door. If they were here because of him...

Ben nodded slightly, his mask softening to a displeased frown. "Pas à cause de toi." _Not because of you_. He seemed to know exactly what Alex was thinking. "Why were you out? And why were you late? This _wasn't_ the first time."

Alex shook his head slowly. "I wanted..." He faltered, not quite sure _what_ he had hoped to get while being out. _Freedom?_ "It's nicer outside." He said, somewhat lamely. He made sure that the accent came across again. "Things happen, you know?"

Ben's expression didn't change. "Nous parlerons plus tard." _We'll talk later_.

Alex bit his lip slightly, still fingering the gun in his pocket. _Don't think about it!_ He'd have to return it later...

"Go get cleaned up, you must have been going through the trees at the park." Ben said, seeming to revert _almost_ to his normal self. "Come out to the kitchen when you're done, I have some friends you should probably meet." A smirk crossed his face for a second, before he turned and disappeared into the kitchen, shutting the door behind himself.

Alex glared at the door for a moment, before gingerly walking to the bathroom. His knee didn't hurt _per say_, it just prickled slightly. Hopefully the feeling would disappear by the next evening, or the physical therapist would join the line for killing him. Slowly.

Since Ben had told him _specifically_ to _clean up_, he wondered what he really looked like. He might have been tromping through the bushes and trees, but it wasn't like he had covered himself in mud or anything. Upon looking in the mirror, two things immediately stood out. One, there were various little twigs and other such things that had gotten tangled in his hood and hair. And two, a long scratch crossed his forehead, still oozing slightly. It was a dark mark on his extremely pale face...

The cold water seemed to clear his mind slightly, but there was still some fogginess to it. He didn't _want_ to think about what had happened, and was pretty sure that his mind was still trying—somewhat desperately—to process it.

After washing his face, pulling out all the twigs that he could find, and dabbing an antibiotic cream on the cut, he headed back to his room to dump his bag. He tossed the bag into the corner, and pulled his sweatshirt off. He pulled the gun out, before tossing the sweatshirt onto his bed.

He'd have to explain eventually... for now though, it seemed that pretending nothing happened was the best course of action. His mind was more than happy to go with that route for the moment. He stuffed the gun underneath his pillow, before finding another sweatshirt and pulling it on.

Alex nearly jumped when he heard an unfamiliar laugh ringing through the flat, and not long after, another joined it. It wasn't Ben's laugh, so there was more than one _friend_ present. But what had Ben meant by _friends_? He suspected that they were unexpected. He was sure Ben would have at least warned him otherwise—or done his best to keep them away. Perhaps he had _tried_ to warn him...

There was nothing he could do now, and after all the events of the afternoon, he wasn't sure he could take much more. The last thing he wanted was for everything to suddenly come into focus, and to be trapped in some room full of strangers. And to make matters worse, since he was late, he was late getting his medicines. The draw to get the medicines won out over the wish to be antisocial for a night. Besides, Ben had asked _nicely_.

The moment he opened the door to the kitchen though, he wanted to turn around, leave the flat, and _never_ return. Well... not _quite_ that bad. He at least wanted the privacy to vent his feelings to Ben. Instead, he was going to have to suffer through the evening. The four visitors in the kitchen turned to stare at Alex when he came into the room, and he caught sight of Ben barely hiding a smirk.

Alex froze for half a second, seriously considered hightailing it out of there, but the soreness of his knee convinced him otherwise. Doing his best to keep any sort of limp out of his step, he calmly walked over to _his chair_, sat down, and sent Ben the fiercest glare he could muster up. "_Imbécile._"

"So you _do_ have a French kid living with you." The voice wasn't scornful, like the other few times he had heard the person speak, just faintly interested. Of course, he was. _Alec_ didn't look like some teenager dropped into the middle of a SAS camp. Eagle watched him with a curious gaze, but it wasn't _too_ searching. It seemed he was oblivious for the moment.

Ben snorted. "I _know_ you heard us in the hall. I'm surprised you didn't all have your ears pressed up against the door when I came back."

Snake looked slightly repentant. "Well, you have to admit, the thought of _you_ being parental and enforcing rules is highly amusing. Actually, I think any of us being parental is just _bizarre._"

"Yeah, first a promotion, and then a kid to seal the deal." Eagle snickered. "Our little Ben is growing up."

Alex glared at Eagle for calling him a kid again. Apparently, they were just assuming that he was the proper age, rather than thinking he was older. Then again... that might have been because Ben was acting _parental_ in the first place.

Ben hit Eagle in the shoulder, before glancing back at Alex. "Alec, meet my _ex_-teammates, Blake and Micah." He waved his hand between Snake and Eagle. "Ignore Sebastian in the back, he's always moody. And Dmitri took over my spot last year."

The fourth member was the only stranger to Alex. Dmitri was tall, but had the same militaristic stance that the others did. None of them were staring at him with any sort of hostility, and they seemed genuinely friendly. Laid back, too. Maybe being off duty did that. Made them more _human_.

"This is Alec. He decided that sharing a flat with me was better than the alternative."

Snake—no, _Blake_—raised an eyebrow. "Alternative?"

"Four months in rehab."

Wo—_Sebastian_ winced slightly, and Alex wondered if he had ever been in rehab. Quite possibly after the events of Point Blanc...

While Alex _knew_ he hadn't liked the idea of staying with Ben at first, over the past month he had almost grown used to it. Certainly, after revealing the story of Jack to Ben, things had almost gotten comfortable. Not that he wanted to settle down, or anything. He was still holding out for his freedom eventually. Though _Alec Pierre_ obviously wasn't a good alias anymore. He was on the maps.

"Did you eat lunch?" Ben asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Alex glanced at the counter, before glancing down at the table and slowly shaking his head.

Ben grumbled something uncomplimentary under his breath in French, before going to rummage in the fridge. "What time did you leave?"

"Er... juste après midi?" _Just after noon?_ Alex didn't dare look up, but he could practically _feel_ Ben's glare boring a hole into him.

"_Six hours_?"

Alex shrugged slightly. "Quelque chose est arrivé." _Things happened_. And he wasn't about to go into detail right now... not when he felt that if he so much as moved, k-unit would pounce on him with questions. As it was, they were all staring at him. "It's rude to stare."

Ea—_Micah_—gle, stared at Alex in shock. "He speaks! English!"

Alex stared at him for a moment, before smirking. "And you're an idiot."

Eagle raised an eyebrow, and Alex wondered how many people were bold enough to actually insult him to his face... probably not very many. "So... how'd you end up with Fox—_Ben_?" Eagle slipped up, and Wolf reached out and smacked him on the head.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Fox—Ben? What, are you part of some sort of _cult_?" As weirded out as he was about the situation of k-unit visiting, as long as they didn't know who he was, he planned to have a little bit of fun.

Wolf growled slightly, and Alex had to suppress his laughter. It had been strange to see Wolf with an almost normal expression—and a normal name. Now that the scowl was back, Alex was sure that the powers of the world had just shifted back into order.

Snake snorted. "That's a new one... but no, it's a, uh... military thing."

Alex nodded, as if he had never heard of it before, while muttering under his breath. "_Crazy British..._" The effect was completely worth it, seeing Snake's expression of shock.

"So how'd you end up here?"

Alex shrugged, but Ben answered for him. "We ran into each other. Quite literally." Alex was tempted to bang his head on the table, remembering the less than graceful way they had first met. "I told you about my brother's accident with the four-wheeler, right? Anyway, they ended up sharing a room."

Ever the medic, Snake was the one to catch onto the implications of sharing a room. _Alec_ had been in the hospital. "What'd _you_ do to end up in the hospital?"

Alex shrugged. "Hit by a car." _Shot at by a madman. Jumped off a fire escape. Ran miles on a busted knee. Killed someone_.

The four SAS men all winced, and Wolf glanced toward Ben. "I hope that's not what you meant by _running into him_."

Ben snorted. "No, thankfully. It was in the hospital, when I was visiting my brother." He effectively cut off that subject, by placing a plate down in front of Alex with a sandwich and his medicine. Alex stared between the plate and Ben for a few moments, before grudgingly taking the glass of water and taking his medicine.

"Your brother was the one that liked to annoy Sebastian, wasn't it?" Alex was almost startled to hear the new voice, but soon registered that it was only Dmitri. "Kept talking all the time, no matter what."

Ben grinned. "Yeah. He's been driving our parents up the wall these past few weeks. And I think everyone was glad when they finally had him off the morphine."

"Didn't he start university this year?"

"Yeah, but between the physical therapy and bracing, he figured that it was best to take the term off."

Alex was grateful for the turn in conversation, and managed to eat his supper in peace. That didn't stop the glances he got from k-unit, but at least they weren't bombarding him with questions. Now that introductions were out of the way, it seemed that they had adopted a _'don't ask'_ stance. Then again, maybe they were used to the secrecy on Ben's side...

* * *

><p>More than an hour later, k-unit finally left. Alex wasn't quite sure whether to be relieved, or apprehensive. With them gone, it meant that Ben was free to ask questions—demand answers. Alex wasn't quite sure why he hadn't escaped while he still had a chance, but it had been somewhat nice to be around other people, without having to worry about ulterior motives. From all signs, they hadn't recognized him. Hadn't even suspected.<p>

Ben took a seat across from him at the table, and pierced him with a stare. "I tried to come home early to warn you that they were coming, but you weren't here. Do you have any idea how worried I was when you weren't back on time, and I couldn't go out to find you because the guys were here?"

Alex hung his head, and shrugged. He had known that Ben wouldn't like the idea of him going out, but he hadn't actually expected Ben to be _worried_.

"Anything could have happened, Alex. For all I knew, you could have been lying in some alley, having messed your knee up again—or something equally as bad."

Alex stared at the table for a long moment. "Sorry?"

Ben sighed. "You were gone for _six_ hours, and were still late coming back. I'm not trying to keep you trapped here or anything, it's just... What happened out there? You looked positively white when you came in and you were _covered_ in twigs."

Alex shrugged slightly, not wanting to meet his gaze. "Things... happened."

"So you said. But particularly, _what_ things? I presume this wasn't the first time you've been out, and that you planned to be back long before I came home—so you wouldn't have to say anything."

"No..." He traced a nonsense pattern on the table before standing up. Ben caught his arm, but he pulled away. "I'll be back. I just... need to get something." He headed directly to his room, grabbing both the iPod and the gun, and put them in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He'd bring it up when he had to. No sooner... It still hadn't set in.

Ben was still waiting for him, but things had moved. The table was clear, and water was heating. Somehow, Ben knew it wasn't going to be a short, simple explanation. Alex sat down at the table, and once again refused to meet Ben's gaze.

Ben was the first to break. "How long have you been going out? And where?"

"The park. You know—the one a couple blocks over." He shrugged, pretending to act casual. "I started going there when the nightmares were bad. It was easier to forget out there, and eventually I found a place where there weren't a lot of people."

"So this was before you were off the crutches?" Ben's tone of voice made it clear that he completely disapproved.

"Yeah... it was okay though. People didn't bother me out there, I was just another person." He shrugged again. "I was careful..."

"Today wasn't like that though."

Alex bit his lip. He wasn't sure _what_ to tell Ben. He didn't want Ben to do anything drastic, but at the same time, he was still trying to figure out what all had happened. What all the ins and outs of the phrases used in the conversation between Ross and Levendis _really_ meant...

Ben sighed. "Just start at the beginning, okay?"

"Fine." Alex stared at the table for a while longer, trying to collect his thoughts. "There's the lake, and beside the lake, there's a bunch of trees and bushes and whatnot. A ways into the trees, there's a ring of boulders, with a place to sit in the middle, hidden from the outside. Protected, you know? I can alternate between sleeping and working on coursework when I'm out there and I don't have to worry about someone accidentally stumbling across me. And time sort of got away from me..."

"You expect me to believe that you fell asleep—in the middle of the woods—for _six_ hours?" Ben stared at him. "That's pushing it a little."

"No... no... I was planning to head back around three, but... I didn't get out in time. Other people showed up in the area, and they effectively trapped me."

"_Other_ people?" Ben sounded more suspicious than worried. Perhaps he thought Alex was just trying to come up with an excuse. A lie, like the other times he hadn't wanted to tell Ben the truth. This time he did though...

Alex bit his lip again. "SimurghandMI5." He blurted.

Ben stared at him. "What?"

"A meeting. Information trade off."

"No, _w__ho_?"

"MI5, and... Simurgh." There was a long, shocked silence, in which Alex was almost positive that Ben had stopped breathing. He didn't blame him. Something had happened mere minutes away from the flat, terrorists were meeting with the security service...

"_Simurgh_? You came across Simurgh while you were out?" Out of all the things Alex had been expecting, he hadn't thought Ben would start laughing. "Only you, Alex, would be able to turn a walk in the park into something dealing with the very safety of this country." He turned sober again. "You didn't get hurt, did you?"

Alex shook his head.

"They didn't find you."

He shook his head again. _Not yet_.

Ben breathed a sigh of relief. "What happened then?"

"The person from Simurgh, Ross, decided to have the meeting on the other side of my boulder. He had me trapped there, with more than twenty people spread out through the trees and another twenty on the MI5 team. I didn't have a _chance_. He even jammed the signals so the wire the MI5 agent, Levendis, had didn't broadcast."

"Levendis, huh?" Ben frowned slightly. "He's their leading expert on Simurgh. Of course, that wasn't much use until recently..."

Alex cocked his head. "He sounded young."

"Not really. He must be getting close to forty by now. He started at MI5 a few months after he turned eighteen. He's nearly a legend when it comes to Simurgh though. Just before they disbanded in '97, Levendis and his cousin, who's with MI6, managed to get into Simurgh headquarters _and_ get back out—something that other agents and countries had been trying for years. Those two are the only ones that know very much about the organization." Ben brushed the matter aside. "I'm just surprised that they risked him."

"Maybe it was the only choice?" Alex suggested.

"Maybe..." Ben frowned slightly. "What did they talk about?"

"MI5 was supposed to give them some sort of information, in exchange for a warning from Simurgh. According to Ross, Simurgh is responsible for _guiding_ the current political turmoil in Northern Africa. They claimed the Domodedovo bombing as theirs, and hinted that they were behind the Heathrow bombing. Their latest targets were the political situation in Côte d'Ivoire and the general elections in Ireland, with the intent that they would soon be under Simurgh control." Alex shrugged.

"What did they trade?" Ben asked.

"Something about the Heathrow bombing. Passenger list, list of casualties, and security footage. After that, Levendis left." He pulled the iPod out of his pocket, his hand briefly brushing over the gun, reminding him the last bit that he needed to tell Ben. Shoving the thought out of his mind, he placed the iPod on the table, pulled out the headphones, and flicked through the controls. "Ross got a call after Levendis left, my guess is a superior. I couldn't understand him, but I managed to record his side of the conversation." He pressed play and Ross's voice carried through the room.

When the conversation ended, Ben sighed. "I can't understand it either. It sounds like Persian, but I'd have to get someone to translate it for me." He eyed Alex warily. "I don't expect you'd want me doing that."

Alex shook his head.

"Figures. And what came after that?"

"I waited until they were gone, and came back." He stared at the table for a long time, ignoring the cup of tea that Ben eventually went and made. His mind _still_ felt foggy, though he knew _exactly_ what had happened afterwards. Slowly, he reached back into his pocket and pulled out the gun, placing it carefully on the table, and then sliding it toward Ben. "I didn't want to." He said simply.

Ben got more out of that one sentence than Alex could have thought possible. His eyes grew wide, and Alex couldn't help but flinch away. _Now_ there was no going back.

"Alex, _what_ happened?"

Alex clenched his fists. "It wasn't an accident."

"Okay..." Ben nodded slightly, fingering the gun. "Who, then? And maybe, _why_?"

"Ross. Gordon Ross. Ex-SCORPIA—he was a trainer—I guess he switched to Simurgh. I thought... thought I was safe. He was after _Alec_ though..." He trailed off, remembering that he had refused to tell Ben the circumstances surrounding the accident in December. "I guess I need to tell you about _that_ first."

To his credit, Ben looked nothing more than confused. Not judging in any aspect.

"A man came across me in London, where I was working." Of course, as far as Ben knew, he had worked in a _souvenir shop_. "He had a SCORPIA tattoo, and I thought he was with _them_. With my history, the last thing I wanted was for them to find me. I thought I was safe though. He showed up two days later, and apparently had an interest in me. I spent half an evening losing the tail, even jumped from a fire escape—that's how I hurt my knee. It had been months, I... I thought I was safe. Eventually he caught up with me, took me to his car at gunpoint, and tied me up. Taking me to his _bosses_. Twenty minutes later, I've jumped out of the car, been shot at, attacked, and he's in the Thames. It _wasn't_ an accident, Ben."

"So, today...?"

"This guy was apparently important, and he was trying to _recruit_ me." _Or kill me_. "After he was... killed, Simurgh decided that they _really_ needed to find _Alec_. They've been looking for me ever since. Ross came across me, when I was almost safe, and recognized me as Alec Pierre..." He shuddered, the next few minutes of that particular memory coming into clear focus. "It wasn't an accident, but I didn't have a choice..." He said softly.

They were both quiet for a long time, before Ben picked the gun up off the table and examined it in his hands. "I understand. And in a way, the fact that you feel _remorse_, even for someone that most likely doesn't deserve your remorse, means that you won't one day be the coldblooded killer that you seem to think you are."

Alex glanced up at him. There was no anger, no disappointment, no disgust, in his expression. He wasn't outright rejecting Alex for the fact that he had _killed_ someone.

"I don't know how to get this through to you, but a lot of times, situations are taken out of our hands. Are you saying that Ross, or that other man, wouldn't have hesitated to kill you? Would they even feel remorse for killing a nameless boy somewhere? Or would they have taken you back to their headquarters and tortured you until you _begged_ to be killed?"

Alex barely kept himself from flinching from the colorful pictures that were painted in his head. He _knew_ if anyone knew who he really was, they wouldn't hesitate. They would have taken him, and tortured him, merely for the sake of making him _pay_.

"Alex, you have to understand, having enemies and having to deal with them, is something that comes with the job, no matter how reluctant you are to have the job in the first place. I think both of those times you can safely say that you killed in self defense. And just because someone dies, doesn't mean you're a _bad person_, or that you're a _murderer_. Since I joined MI6, I've had to kill people, both deliberately and accidentally. They didn't always give me a choice. Kill or be killed."

Alex stared at the table, but nodded slowly. "I know..." And he did, really, but just because he knew, didn't mean that his mind wanted to accept the fact. On some level, his mind was trying to tell him he was still fifteen. He shouldn't even be _thinking_ about these sorts of problems.

Ben pushed the tea closer to Alex. "If you _know_ that, then you must understand that you're not a remorseless—or ruthless—killer. You're just a teenager that's been thrown into something you really shouldn't have, and your survival instincts are the only thing keeping you alive."

Alex stared at the table for a long time, keeping his eyes off the gun. As much as it made sense, he still didn't like it. Yet it seemed unavoidable, especially after the number of enemies he had made. If Simurgh caught wind of him again, more people were going to get killed—and the likelihood that one of them would be _him_ was a lot higher.

The kitchen fell silent for a long time, and Ben seemed content to just wait for Alex to break the silence again. Instead, he sipped his tea, and relaxed.

After a while, Alex glanced up at Ben. "So... what's Dmitri's codename?"

Ben smirked, catching the obvious topic change. "Penguin."

Alex bit his lip, to keep himself from snorting at the absurdity of the codename. "So, why were they here? Shouldn't they be on assignment? Or are they on leave too?"

Ben shook his head. "They're one of the units assigned to working with MI5 and MI6. Keeping the peace, that sort of stuff. There was probably a unit with Levendis as well... Anyway, they came to visit after learning about my latest orders."

"Latest orders?" Ben had said that he had another couple of weeks on desk duty, at the least. Orders though... that meant that he'd probably be going out into the field, for who knew how long.

"Two different things really. One, my request for a change of address has been approved—I've been planning to move since November, but headquarters was so bogged down with paperwork that they _just_ got around to it."

"Change of address?"

"To a flat just outside of Hyde Park. It would make a shorter commute for me and now... well, I think I'd be more comfortable with you going out for walks, if I didn't think that I had to worry about Simurgh, or MI5, or who knows what else, coming after you." Ben smirked slightly. "Unfortunately, the orders are getting in the way of moving right away."

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"A refresher course at Brecon Beacons, just for the weekend thankfully. I'm going back with my unit... apparently Jones thinks it's the best way to get me ready for duty again." He cast a speculative glance toward Alex. "I _can_ trust you to stay out of trouble for a weekend, right? The park probably isn't exactly safe for the next few days, since Simurgh might know you were there. Not to mention the MI5 officers..."

Alex rolled his eyes. "No walks until after we _move_, I get it. I'll stay out of trouble." _Or try to..._ He couldn't help it that trouble just seemed to be attracted to him.

"Good." Ben cleared the table, before throwing another question over his shoulder. "So where'd you get the idea for the codenames to be part of a _cult_? I thought Wolf was about to kill your for that quip."

Alex just grinned.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This was a whole lot longer than I originally intended. It gained about two thousand words in the past day... *cough* You guys are going to be so spoiled when (and if) I go back to short chapters.**

**I had a mid-story crisis earlier this week. I realized that while I had introduced Simurgh, I had _no idea_ what they were up to ('cause in my original plot outline, they didn't exist)... genius author right there. Anyway, after spending a few hours of brainstorming with various people, I think I finally have it figured out. The only problem? The next chapter _might_ come out a day or so late. It depends on if I get a sudden surge of inspiration (and time). Spending time figuring out Simurgh has really put me behind—both on this, and in real life.  
><strong>

**Did Alex's original personality still come through? I know a lot of people commented that he was acting more like he had in the first couple of chapters. I feel like getting it right is like trying to hold water with my hands... If you could tell me _what_ it was that made him come across right, that would be a HUGE help!  
><strong>

**So review please! And I'll try my hardest to get the next chapter out on time!  
><strong>

**S.B.L.**


	21. Ups and Downs

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Alex Rider. And sadly, I highly doubt I ever will. I'm just not that rich._**  
><strong>

_**Previously...**  
><em>

_He cast a speculative glance toward Alex. "I _can _trust you to stay out of trouble for a weekend, right? The park probably isn't exactly safe for the next few days, since Simurgh might know you were there. Not to mention the MI5 officers..."_

_Alex rolled his eyes. "No walks until after we _move_, I get it. I'll stay out of trouble." _Or try to..._ He couldn't help it that trouble just seemed to be attracted to him._

_"Good." Ben cleared the table, before throwing another question over his shoulder. "So where'd you get the idea for the codenames to be part of a _cult_? I thought Wolf was about to kill your for that quip."_

_Alex just grinned._

**CHAPTER 21: Ups and Downs**

* * *

><p>Life had become almost normal in the past few weeks. Twice weekly appointments with the physical therapist, only two nightmares in the whole two week period, and slowly but steadily working toward the goal for his GCSE's. Alex hadn't hit any insurmountable roadblocks—yet—thanks to a little help from Ben and the purchase of a laptop.<p>

The day after the Simurgh and MI5 meeting, Ben had come back from work with the minimal information MI5 had gained from Simurgh. MI5 had, of course, been annoyed with the unknown person that killed Gordon Ross, but their information had gotten back to what they assumed was the headquarters. The undetectable tracking software—borrowed from MI6, and designed by Smithers—had picked up and broadcast information, moving from a computer in Wales, to a mainframe somewhere in Iran, confirming their suspicions that Simurgh was once again operating out of their base off the coast of Iran.

Other than that though, they hadn't learned much. The five agents that MI5 had managed to capture had all died before MI5 had a chance to question them, and the bomb threat had turned out to be only that, a _threat_. There had been nothing in the park...

When the weekend came, like Ben had asked, Alex stayed inside the flat, and didn't take any spur of the moment walks. When they had eventually passed the park a few days after Ben got back from Brecon Beacons—on the way to a physical therapy appointment—Alex had noticed the obvious additions to the park. Particularly, the rather visible person patrolling the park. It seemed that MI5 wasn't taking any chances at that park...

With that addition, Alex was more than happy to stay away from the place, and eventually, to move away. The new flat next to Hyde Park was slightly bigger than the previous one, with an open area between the living room and kitchen, and provided _no_ windows in the flat whatsoever. Alex didn't like _that_ addition so much, but it _did_ provide a higher level of security... Since neither Ben nor Alex had very much as far as possessions went, they were able to make the move within a matter of hours—after Ben had thoroughly checked the flat for _bugs_. Thankfully there weren't any.

He liked being next to the park, since when he went out—which was nearly every day now—he didn't have to walk a long ways to get away from the people surrounding him. In such a big park, the people were more spread out, and it only took a few minutes for him to get away from everyone else.

Now that he knew Simurgh was looking for him though, it was harder for Alex to be around the crowds of people that sometimes dominated the city streets. It didn't matter that there was no possible way that Simurgh could connect him to Ross's death, they would still be looking for him. They still _wanted_ him. Everyone that passed him on the street was judged as a potential attacker—even the innocent looking mothers with children. Thankfully, it wasn't bad enough that he felt like withdrawing from society completely. That would almost be as bad as letting Simurgh win.

He had been living in the new flat for almost a week, before starting to relax again. The first few nights he had been afraid that the flat had been compromised, despite Ben's reassurances. When nothing came of it though, he pushed it off as being paranoid, and then attempted to push everything _else_ away from his thoughts as well.

Except for asking Ben about the updates in the world, he thought as little as possible about Simurgh and SCORPIA, and instead focused on his studies. Between English, English literature, French, history, sciences, and maths, Alex figured he had enough to keep himself occupied for the next few weeks. At least, until he needed to move on...

He was in the middle of working on a set of problems from the maths textbook, when the notebook and textbook were pulled away from him. He looked up to see Ben smirking down at him, holding the two items hostage.

"This has to be unhealthy on some level." Ben said, flipping through the notebook. "Three-x, plus y, equals eighteen. Four-x, plus two-y, equals thirty-four. X equals seven. Y equals minus-five." He shook his head slowly. "You've been in here for the last five hours, _studying_, and you haven't so much as acknowledged the fact that it's your _sixteenth_ birthday today."

Alex glanced at the date on the computer, only registering it for the first time that day. February thirteenth. He had made it to a birthday that at one point he had doubted he would even get to. "Oh..."

Ben snorted. "I could understand _me_ forgetting, but you..." He shook his head. "Come on, I _refuse_ to let you sit around all day."

Alex glared at him, before grabbing the textbook back and flipping through to the page that Ben had lost for him. "It's fine. I've got a lot to do. I'll go out for a walk later."

Ben grabbed the book again, this time gathering up _all_ the books, and placing them in a corner, out of reach. "No. Come on, we're going out now, and you're not doing anymore studying today. Most _normal_ teenagers are more than excited about the prospect of a birthday."

"We've established this. I'm not normal."

"Of course not." Ben grinned. "That's why we're taking a walk in the park instead of going to see a movie or something that a _normal_ teenager would do." He pulled a sweatshirt out from one of the drawers and tossed it at Alex. "Get dressed, or we won't make it out and back before it starts raining hard."

Alex stuck his tongue out at Ben in a very childish fashion, causing Ben to laugh before leaving the room. It was pointless to argue with Ben, especially when he was so set on getting what he wanted. The man had a stubborn streak a mile wide, especially when it came to getting Alex to do something he didn't want to...

Within a few minutes, Alex was ready to go and he and Ben headed out of the flat. It was just barely sprinkling out, and Alex had a feeling that it was going to start raining harder in a couple of hours. Hopefully by then, they'd be back at the flat... Neither of them said very much, both content just to walk in silence.

Since it was a Sunday, there were people out on the streets, despite the slight rain. Most, of course, had umbrellas... Surprisingly, Alex didn't quite feel as nervous walking out in public as he had when it was just him. He didn't feel quite such a compelling need to check every person, every car, for any sign of SCORPIA or Simurgh. For once, he almost felt protected while still being out in the open.

All because, for once, he wasn't alone. He wasn't going to tell Ben that though...

After walking around for a while, they found a semi-dry bench underneath a canopy of leafless trees. Alex flopped down and immediately closed his eyes. Even though he hadn't had to worry about his nighttime sleep being interrupted by nightmares, he found that _whenever_ he went out, it was useful to get at least a few minutes of sleep. No matter if it was raining or not.

Ben chuckled beside him. "If I didn't know better, I'd say the only reason you come out here is to sleep."

Alex smiled slightly, not bothering to open his eyes. "Nah, but it's a definite draw."

"Now see, _that's_ more like a teenager. Always wanting to sleep." Alex could almost picture the slight frown on Ben's face, after the moment's pause. "You _are_ sleeping at night, right? I'm not missing obvious signs again, am I?"

"No... I'm sleeping fine. It's just... you know, _relaxing_ out here. I don't have to worry about... _stuff_." He opened an eye to stare at Ben for a moment. "I mean, I'll study too, but it's different out here." When he was in the park, away from the people, it was always _easier_ to push the thoughts of SCORPIA and Simurgh to the back of his mind. A constant presence, but not one that he needed to be constantly thinking about.

They fell quiet for a while, and eventually the rain picked up and Ben hauled Alex off the bench. If they stayed in one place for much longer, they were going to get soaked... so much for it not raining for a while.

Twenty minutes later, they had found refuge in a small café, and Ben had gone to order a snack and tea. The rain had seemed to start coming down faster, the moment they stepped inside, dismissing the notion that it would go away any time soon. Alex had taken one of the tables beside the window, away from the other patrons of the café, while Ben got their food.

He stared somewhat forlornly out the window, knowing that they were essentially trapped until the rain let up some. Or getting back to the flat got absolutely desperate. Like it was past dinner time, or something. So much for getting much more studying done...

Ben sat down across from him with a sigh. "I thought people were supposed to be _happy_ on their birthdays. Not looking like someone had just killed their cat."

Alex dredged up a small smile for Ben. "Just thinking of everything I need to get done."

Ben rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless. Sixteen and your birthday means nothing. That's just sad." He pushed the tea across the table, along with a slice of cake. "Might as well have some cake while we're at it, since I'm no good as far as baking goes."

"Chocolate?"

"Chocolate with caramel. I've heard it's one of their specialties."

"Hmm." He put a forkful of the cake into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. "Decent."

Ben raised an eyebrow, before grabbing a bite himself. "Only _decent?_"

"I had a cake in France a couple years ago. Now _that_ was melt in your mouth deliciousness. _This_ has nothing on that."

"In that case..." Ben pulled the plate with the cake toward himself. "I guess you don't need any more."

Alex laughed, before pulling the plate back. "Just because it isn't the best in the world, doesn't mean I don't _want_ it."

Ben smirked at him, and Alex wondered if he had just given Ben what he had been working for all afternoon. A reaction worthy of a regular, everyday, normal, _teenager_.

* * *

><p>After the one afternoon of near normalcy, Alex reverted to the usual slightly paranoid and studious self. Not knowing how long he had until he absolutely <em>had<em> to move on, he was doing his best to learn as much as possible. If he knew enough to get by with a standard schooling, then he could blend into the general population somewhere and actually go back to school... it was a strange though, thinking that it _could_ be realistically possible in just a matter of months.

But he didn't like the feeling of _leaving_ Ben, even though he knew the time was quickly getting closer and closer. As much as he hated to admit it, he _almost_ relied on Ben now. The fact that he could sleep deeply at night without feeling like he needed to be on constant alert was helping immensely, and he wasn't looking forward to the years ahead of him when he wouldn't know who to trust anymore. When he _couldn't_ trust anyone. Just the small fact that he could talk about _some_ things with Ben, glimpses of his nightmares, made everyday living that much easier.

He hadn't wanted to make an attachment—that was one of the reasons he had been opposed to staying with Ben in the first place—but aside from the first few weeks, he hadn't really tried too hard _not_ to. The feeling of security while staying with Ben... seemed to have taken over his thinking and made him do some things he probably wouldn't have at any other time. Namely, talking to Ben about the nightmares in the first place.

Like any other day, Ben arrived home just after four thirty and pulled Alex away from his books and out to help him in the kitchen. The temporary cooking ban was still in effect, so Alex couldn't actually use the stove, but Ben found more than plenty of ways for him to help.

"Dumplings." Ben placed some leafy green looking vegetable down on the counter, next to a large bowl. He seemed inordinately happy about... _something_.

"Dumplings?"

"Chinese dumplings. Potstickers. Whatever you want to call it. We'll eat a little later than usual, but... I don't exactly make these very often." He pointed at the vegetable. "Chop that up finely, and I'll tell you where to go from there."

Alex stared between the vegetable, the knife, and Ben for a moment, before shrugging. As eccentric as Ben's meal choices were—and they varied from Chinese cuisine, to Indian, to African, to Hispanic—Alex had yet to find a dish that he hadn't liked. There were, of course, _normal_ foods, but a couple times a week, something seemed to get into Ben's mind and he made something that Alex least expected.

"How's your studying?" Ben asked, as he got started on the other portion of the meal, which seemed to include boiled eggs and some sort of noodles.

Alex sighed.

"That good, huh?"

"You can only get so far in history, before all the dates and events start blurring together. I mean, I _know_ this stuff, but that was _years_ ago."

"Well it _is_ history."

Alex was tempted to glare at him.

"How's the rest going?"

"Maths is fine. It makes _sense_. I think I'm about halfway through the book."

"And you started about a month ago?"

"Mostly review. I'll probably start slowing down soon." As easy as the problems had been in the beginning of the book—the things he had been familiar with from his sporadic school attendance—they were steadily getting harder and harder. For once he actually felt like he was starting to push himself again. Like he was _learning_ something new.

After a while, they fell into a routine. Ben pushed more things toward Alex to cut up and mix together, until one counter was almost covered in foodstuffs. From there, they started putting the dumplings together, until there were more than fifty dumplings made.

Alex looked at them speculatively. He might have gotten his appetite back in the past few weeks, but he didn't think that they could eat so many between just the two of them. "Isn't that a lot?"

Ben frowned slightly. "Probably... We can refrigerate whatever we don't eat, and you'll have a little more variety for your lunch."

Alex rolled his eyes.

By the time Ben got around to cooking the dumplings, there wasn't much else for Alex to do. Except for cleaning up the kitchen and that didn't exactly appeal to him... instead, he hung around waiting, not feeling like going back to tackle his books again. He had done enough for the afternoon, and there would be plenty of time before he went to bed to wrap things up.

The phone ringing caught him off guard though. Ben had only set it up the night before, claiming that he at least had a small chance of getting a hold of Alex if something came up. But since Ben was home, there was no reasonable explanation for the phone to be ringing.

Ben stared at it with a somewhat horrified expression on his face, before mumbling something about the eighteenth, and hitting the speakerphone button on the phone. He sent a glance toward Alex, obviously telling him to keep quiet.

"Hello?"

_"Ben! About time!"_ A slightly familiar voice came out of the speaker, and Alex cocked his head curiously. _Why_ would he recognize the voice? It wasn't one of k-unit, that was for sure, but it still sounded eerily familiar...

"I just connected the phone last night."

_"Oh..._" There was an audible sigh, followed by some static. _"I thought you might be purposefully ignoring my call or something. I mean, it just kept ringing, and ringing... I was just about to come over there and knock your door down."_

Ben smirked at the phone, seeming pleased that he could one up the person on the other end. "You'd have a small problem doing that, seeing how I've moved."

There was a snort, and Alex had the creeping suspicion that the mysterious voice knew a whole lot more than he was first letting on. "I know that. I've got your new address. Place by Hyde Park. Sounds _nice_."

The smirk fell off Ben's face, and he immediately looked suspicious. "It is _nice_. How'd you get the address?"

_"Mum."_

Alex glanced at Ben. "Luke?" He mouthed. Ben nodded, frowning slightly at the phone.

"Lovely. But seeing how you're in Liverpool—"

_"I'm not."_

"You're what?"

_"I'm in London. A couple of the professors wanted to tal__k to me, about the possibility of taking__ summer class__es__. That way I'm not so far behind when I go back in the fall."_

"What do you want with me?"

_"What, I'm not allowed to come see big brother while I'm in the area?"_

"No."

Luke sighed. _"Shame... but Mum and Dad said they couldn't drive down __today—they're both in Leeds for the week—so Mum sent me as representative. Besides, who wants to be alone on their birthday?"_

Alex stared at Ben, who was pinching the bridge of his nose. _Hypocrite_. He hadn't said it was his birthday, and he had all but forced Alex to celebrate his just a few days earlier...

_"I mean, it's not like you're doing anything important. It's a Friday night, and you're home now."_

Ben glanced between Alex, the phone, and the ceiling, seeming to weigh his options. "I'm not _alone_, Luke. Work is insane, and I got home not too long ago. Honestly, I could care less if it's my birthday." He grimaced slightly, seeming to catch the glare that Alex was sending his way.

_"Exactly. That's why I'm giving you _some_ warning. I'm on my way over. Mum wants me to make sure__ that you're still living, since she hasn't heard from you in weeks, minus the message you sent giving her your new address."_

"You're talking to me now. Isn't that proof enough?"

_"Nope. I'm supposed to report on your new living accommodations. Otherwise,__ she's probably going to come down when you least expect it."_

Alex gulped. Luke was _coming_? As in, right then? If Luke saw _Alec_, there were bound to be questions...

"Luke, I really _d__o_ have someone here. It's _not_ a good time."

Luke laughed. _"Sorry Benny, but you had better tell your _guest_. I'm not getting on Mum's bad side, so you'll have to survive with seeing a family member again. I'll be there in ten minutes. Oh, and I hope you ha__ve some food, because I'm absolutely famished."_ The phone clicked off, not even giving Ben a chance to reply.

Ben stared at the phone for a moment, before running his hand through his hair. "Cheeky brat." He muttered.

Now that the phone was off, a slight sizzling sound caught their attention, and Ben swore loudly as he went to keep the food from burning. Alex stifled a laugh. Seeing Ben so unnerved by something so normal, was slightly amusing_—_even if it did mean that his cover might be blown...

"You're such a hypocrite." Alex stated, sitting down at the table.

"Hmm? Why?" Ben asked.

"_I_ didn't even know it was your birthday. And you all but forced me to do something for mine, when I was content to ignore it."

Ben shot a glare over his shoulder. "It's different. You're still a kid."

Alex glared at him.

"You don't need to look so offended at being called a kid. It's not a _bad_ thing. Sure, you've seen more than most _kids_ your age, but you're still one at heart. Otherwise, I doubt you would have dared to tease Wolf the other night."

Alex still scowled at him, but shrugged.

"So... any ideas on how we're going to explain _you_ to Luke?"

Alex sighed. "Well... not the _truth_."

"No, definitely not the truth. We should probably stick as close to the fabricated truth as we can_—_I mean, the one he already knows." Ben pulled the last of the dumplings out of the pan and put them on a platter. "I think as long as we establish that you're staying with me instead of living in a rehab hospital for the next few months, he shouldn't ask too many questions. I mean, what's suspicious in that?"

Alex nodded slowly, thinking it over. "That sounds like it should work... but won't he be curious as to why I'm staying with _you_, of all people?"

Ben shrugged. "Well... we might have to add some interesting lies to your story... just don't say anything too outrageous, or we'll get caught." He pulled three bowls down from a cupboard and handed them to Alex. "So much for leftovers though..."

Alex snorted. "Yeah. At least there should be enough."

"Depends on how much Luke eats..." Ben glanced at his watch. "He'll be here any minute now. You should probably go get your glasses if you don't want Luke to be suspicious."

"Like he won't be anyway..."

Ben just laughed.

Alex headed to his room, trying to remember where he had dropped the glasses that afternoon. With the now regular walks, he spent nearly half the time wearing the glasses, making it so when he _did__n't_ wear them it felt like he was missing something. Not that they changed his vision or anything... it just made him look _different_. Different enough that people who knew _Alex_, dismissed him.

"This is definitely going to be interesting." Ben said, as Alex entered the kitchen again. Half a minute later, there was a very audible knock on the front door. "Finish setting the table, would you?" Ben asked, before making his way to the door.

Alex sent a glare in his direction, but Ben already had his back to him. The food was already on the small table, leaving just the finishing touches. Like water, and cups, and spoons... _medicine_. He grabbed the medicine and took it, liking to get it out of the way before eating.

A coil of nervousness settled in his stomach as he swallowed the water. What if, no matter what they said, Luke didn't believe them? What if, by some odd stroke of misfortune, Luke had someone following him, using him to get closer to Ben? Then they would know that Alex, or _Alec_ was there too... and that he wasn't just a nobody.

The front door shut, and Alex could almost make out what Ben was saying in the hall to Luke. Probably one last attempt at getting his brother to leave... Soon enough though, their words got clearer, as they both got closer and closer to the kitchen.

"—a bit of a surprise." Ben said, coming into the kitchen. "I really wasn't expecting you to come by, much less be in the area."

"It's your birthday, Ben. You can't just ignore it. You're not allowed to do that until you're old and grey. Besides, Mum would have a fit if she knew you were alone for it..." Luke trailed off, as he came into the kitchen and saw Alex. Alex couldn't help but smile slightly at the shocked expression. "I know you said you had a visitor, but... _Alec_?"

Ben smiled slightly. "Yeah, _him_. He's got a habit for turning up in the last place you'd expect him to be."

Alex wasn't sure if that was a pointed remark toward him, but it certainly fit. From going to Brecon Beacons, to Ben rescuing him in the middle of Bangkok, to responding to his tracker in Australia, to stumbling across him in the hospital, all of those places were the _last place_ he should have been.

Luke raised an eyebrow, and leaned against the door frame. "I don't suppose I'm going to get an answer for why Alec's here, am I? I don't think it's just a _friendly visit_."

"No... Alec's been staying with me since the end of December."

There was a long pause. Luke looked mildly shocked, but at the same time, almost expecting it. "Since he got out?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah. He needed to someone to make sure he didn't accidentally kill himself during the first few months. It was either with me or in a rehab hospital until April."

"And for the record, I hate hospitals." Alex said. "I'd have been out of there, doctors orders or not, within a few weeks."

"It was just better this way, all around."

Luke just stared at the two of them. "Huh." That about summed it up. He nearly fell into a chair, still staring at Ben. "This is the most bizarre chance meeting _ever_."

Alex snorted. Luke though _he_ had it strange? Here he was, meeting someone as Alec Pierre—_for the second time_—and pretending to still be that person that he wasn't. He couldn't even act his age...

"So why _you_?" Luke asked. "Not that I think it's bad or anything, it's just strange..."

Ben shrugged "I was on leave for the first month, and now that I'm settling into my _new job_ they've mostly got me doing desk duty while I brush up on all the protocol. It'll be at least another week before they give me an assignment, if not longer."

Alex smirked. As far as Luke knew, Ben had just settled into a job at _The Department for International Development_, with an indistinct job description. All it meant was paper pushing, and some international assignments. Essentially what a spy did, just with a different focus and job title...

"Now if you're done interrogating us, we can eat before the food gets cold."

Luke scoffed, and took his seat, surveying the table. "So, did dear Benny even _tell_ you it was his birthday?" He asked.

"Nope." Alex sent a mild glare toward Ben. He had _forced_ him, so revenge was being served. "Seemed to have... _slipped_ his mind."

"Nah, it didn't. If it had, he wouldn't have made all _this_. I mean, _this_ is what our Mum makes every year for birthdays. Trust me, if he forgot his own birthday, you'd probably be eating something like... I don't know... grilled cheese?"

"Haven't had that yet..."

"And you've been here for more than a month? I'm impressed Ben." Luke had to duck to dodge the slap Ben was sending his way, and nearly ended up with a face full of noodles and dumplings.

Ben snickered at Luke's expression. "Best not to bite the hand that feeds you."

"Yeah, yeah..." Luke waved it aside, before taking a bite of dumpling. "Delicious as always. Almost as good as Mum's."

"Don't let her hear you say that."

"I won't. I don't have a death wish. For you—or for me."

Ben laughed, and Alex couldn't help but notice that he seemed at ease again. Apparently, he deemed that the danger of Luke asking too many questions was past. Maybe he could safely relax without having to worry about his each and every move being dissected—like when k-unit had been over.

The meal was _delicious_, and Alex made sure to commit the recipe for the dumplings to memory. Maybe once he was on his own again... well, he'd need to eat _something_, and it didn't hurt to have plenty of options.

Luke and Ben spent most of the meal catching up, and only once or twice did the subjects get onto rocky ground. Each time though, Alex was able to come up with some explanation, without accidentally incriminating himself. It was hard remembering what he had told Luke while he was in the hospital, especially from the first day. He just had to make sure that nothing he said contradicted what he said then. He couldn't count on Luke _not remembering_.

By the time Luke left that evening, Alex had smiled more than he had in the past two weeks combined. There was just something infectious about Luke's happy-go-lucky demeanor that made everything seem right in the world once again. That there really wasn't anything for Alex to worry about, not at the moment.

The upward swoop he had been on ever since the Sunday that Ben had dragged him out for the walk wasn't disappearing, and for once, he felt like he had an actual place in the world. Like he wasn't just an observer that didn't fit in because of his experiences.

For once, he felt _normal_ again.

* * *

><p><em>"—but I'll call you in a few hours, after I get my assignment. Don't even <em>think_ of leaving the flat, __or I _will_ suspect the worst and contact the bank when I can't reach you. We can discuss logistics later. Don't do anything stupid, Alec."_ The message cut off with a few seconds of silence, and then the answering machine came back on, telling Alex his options. He pressed delete, and then made his way to the kitchen.

The time had finally come. Ben had been sent on a mission somewhere, and Alex was officially alone. There were just over two weeks until he passed the two month threshold, _and_ was supposed to start walking without the brace and eventually running again. But now... this was his chance to leave, without really having to worry about cutting ties off with Ben... but he couldn't. He really couldn't.

He had woken up to a quiet and empty flat. He had almost slept in, not hearing the customary sound of the shower running in the morning, and it had taken him a few extra moments to pinpoint what was different. When he had realized that either Ben was sleeping in, or something else had happened, Alex snuck through the flat, making sure that there weren't any unwanted surprises. Such as people lying in wait for him... There hadn't been anything except for the flashing light on the answering machine telling him that there was a message.

He didn't doubt that Ben's threat about calling _the bank_ was real. Something told Alex that Ben was _eventually_ going to let him go, but since he wasn't past the two-month mark, he wasn't out of the _danger zone_ yet. _Just a few more weeks_...

He got his breakfast, and was relieved to see that there was enough food to at least get him to the end of the week. From there, he'd have to get creative with cooking... of course, Ben wasn't around to know if he was using the stove or not...

It only took Alex five minutes of searching to find that Ben had left his book behind and another minute to type in the password one-handed, while still eating. There was the customary flicker, before it switched over to the menu screen. Unfortunately, the last time anything had been added was the night before, and there was no automatic update. In a matter of hours, everything was going to be outdated, and there was no way that Alex could get into MI6's files. And trying to masquerade as Ben would just raise alarms with the wrong sort of people.

In the past few weeks, turmoil had continued to rain down on Northern Africa and other parts of the world. There were signs, of course, that Simurgh was behind some, but not all, of the protests. New countries had joined the mix of protesting and rebellions. Iraq, Bahrain, Libya, Morocco, and Lebanon, just since the beginning of February.

The most worrying aspect though, was the fact that the results for the Irish general elections had come in only two days previously, and there was no way to tell _who_ was a plant by Simurgh. If, indeed, _any_ of them really were, or if it was just a ploy to distract their attention elsewhere.

Now, it was the end of the month, and as far as Alex could tell from what he was reading, MI6 hadn't made any progress on getting information on Simurgh _or_ SCORPIA—the most they had was from the MI5 meeting. A dire warning, but nothing else.

The phone rang, startling Alex out of his thoughts, and he eyed it warily. _Hopefully_ it was Ben calling in. The number was foreign, but something told Alex that Ben wasn't going to use one that MI6 could possibly trace. He let it ring through to the answering machine, waited until Ben left the message with their _'safe to talk'_ code, and picked it up when it started ringing again. They had planned it out, so Alex didn't have to run the risk of answering when it _wasn't_ Ben.

"Bonjour?"

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. _"Alec. __Ils m'ont donné__une mission__.__"_ They gave me a mission.

Alex bit his lip slightly. There was nothing he could do about it. "I figured as much. You must've left early."

_"__A__trois heures du matin__.__"_ At three in the morning.

"Is there a reason why you're speaking French?"

_"Oui."_

"Are you going to tell me?"

"_Je vais te le dire dans un instant._" I'll tell you in a minute. _"__Attends...__"_ Wait...

Alex could hear loud sounds in the background, almost as if Ben was in the midst of a crowd of people. An airport, perhaps? The background noise cleared out for a moment, and Alex heard something that sounded _almost_ like Spanish, but wasn't. Italian perhaps...?

_"Okay, Alec. We can't talk for long, and I can't tell you much."_

"But you'll tell me something?"

_"As much as I can. I'm going to Côte d'Ivoire_—_hence the French. As long as everything goes according to plan, I'll be back in a week. I can't tell you anything more than that though."_

Alex's heart sank. Ben was going right into the middle of it all. Côte d'Ivoire was one of the countries that Simurgh was manipulating. It wasn't going to be an easy mission for Ben. "The _bank_, right?"

_"Yeah. Listen, I know you're getting close to the end of two months, but I don't want you alone all the time. You still have your appointments with the physical therapist, and now that I'm not there, you don't have a good way of getting there and back. Not to mention the fact that you're supposed to get a blood test done this week as well. I'd feel better if you had someone with you."_

"But _who_? It's not like I _know_ anyone in London. And don't you dare think about contacting _them_. I _will_ disappear if I have to."

_"I won't, I won't. Don't worry about that."_ Ben hesitated for a moment, and Alex could almost _hear_ him thinking. _"What if... what if I convinced Luke to come down for a week? Do you think you could handle that? It could be a way of getting used to being more or less on your own again..."_

Alex opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds. _Luke_ stay over? "Doesn't that sound a little... suicidal?" _Get used to being... on your own again..._ Did that mean that Ben _wanted_ him to leave? Or did he just understand that Alex _couldn't_ stay in one place for months on end? "I mean, he doesn't know about _the bank_ or anything... and with me alone, he'll have all the more chance to drown me with questions."

Ben laughed. _"Luke knows better than to push too much. If anything, ignoring him for a couple of hours will usually get him off your case."_

"But wouldn't refusing to answer just make him suspicious?" Any time _he_ had had someone hiding answers, there had been some sinister motive behind it.

_"__I think as long as you give him nothing to be suspicious about, he'll get the drift that you're rather quiet. In fact, I think he should have figured that out already. You survived with him while you were both in the hospital, and I wasn't around all the time."_

"Yeah, except we were both sleeping the majority of the time. How am I supposed to explain that I'm studying for my GCSE's when I supposedly dropped out of school?"

Ben snorted. _"That could be my wonderful influence shining through. __Don't worry about it. I'll talk to Luke and make sure he doesn't go overboard or anything. Besides, with Luke, you'll at least have halfway decent meals. Does that sound okay? I really don't want to come back and find out that something happened, and that there was no one nearby..."_

Alex thought about it for a moment. There were pros and cons, most notably that he wouldn't have to worry about the logistics of getting to and from his appointments. But then, there _was_ the fact that a terrorist organization—Simurgh—was searching all of London for him. And that _another_—SCORPIA—was quite possibly looking for Ben as well. Even if Luke didn't know, there was a higher chance that someone from one of those two places would take an interest and use him as _bait_. "Are you sure you want to bring Luke into... _all this_? I mean, I barely missed Simurgh a couple of weeks ago."

_"That was before we moved, and we haven't had any activity nearby. You don't need to worry about that."_ There was a slight shuffling sound, before Ben's voice lowered to barely more than a whisper. _"__Le temps est écoulé. Oui ou non?__"_ Time's up. Yes or no?

Alex bit his lip. He had a choice, but not too much of one... "Fine. Send Luke down. But make sure he knows that if he bugs me, I'll lock myself up in my room."

_"__Je le ferai.__"_ I will.

"Good. Just make sure you get back in one piece. We have enough medical problems in this flat already." Feeling slightly vindictive, he clicked the phone off before Ben could reply. It was as close as he would get to admitting that he might—possibly—care about Ben's welfare. He told himself that it was just because he wanted to leave on a good note, not slinking off through the night without a single goodbye... Then again, no goodbyes were always the easiest.

But _what_ had he just agreed to? A week—or more—with Luke as his only company? Apparently he liked staying with Ben a whole lot more than he had expected...

* * *

><p>Why, oh why, oh why, had he agreed to this? This was practically the equivalent of committing alias <em>suicide<em>. Spending a week with the brother of a spy that didn't know _anything_! Not to mention, that he was supposed to be _eighteen_—two whole years older than he really was. And now that he was walking, he had all the nervous, silent spy reactions again.

Luke was going to be the death of him.

To take his mind off the prospect of the next week or so, Alex had all but drowned himself in the first textbook he got his hands on. The fact that it was his least favorite subject—history—made it so he _finally_ got a reasonable amount of work done on it. It would also be the hardest one to explain away to Luke...

He didn't even bother to go out for his usual walk, knowing that it would just give him too much time to _think_. Besides, he was probably going to end up spending as much time out of the flat as possible. Giving Luke opportunities for confrontation was the last thing Alex wanted.

By mid afternoon though, he had lost all interest in studying, and started pacing the flat wondering just _when_ Luke was coming. He just wanted to get the awkward beginning over, before he disappeared for the majority of the week. He was sure he could find something entertaining to do once Luke was out of the way.

When he _finally_ heard the knock at the front door, he froze. Did he really want to do this? Would Ben kill him—if he ever found him again—if he ran off? _Was_ it even Luke at the door? Had MI6 traced Ben's call? They couldn't... Ben wouldn't be dumb enough to make it easy. He _wasn't_ going to give Alex away.

The person at the door knocked again, sounding mildly impatient.

Alex groaned. Now or never. He made his way to the door, instinctively staying close to the wall, just in case the person on the other side of the door wasn't Luke, and they got impatient. He had never really appreciated the peepholes on doors before, but he finally understood their use. After identifying Luke at the door, he grudgingly opened it to let Luke in.

Luke grinned at him. "About time."

Alex rolled his eyes, mentally reminding himself that for the next week or so, he was _Alec Pierre_. No one else. He shut the door, took a deep breath, and headed to the kitchen, with Luke trailing behind.

"I was a bit surprised to hear from Ben earlier. He's not one to ever call home, especially with such an _odd_ request." Luke leaned up against the counter. "I mean, sometimes we'll be lucky to hear from him for months on end. Before August, the last time we heard from him voluntarily, was when he was in the hospital, after getting shot in action."

Alex couldn't hide the grimace, knowing exactly _when_ Luke was talking about. The November in Australia... _Ash_...

"—not that I'm complaining or anything. This is an excellent excuse to get away from the parents." Luke paused for a moment, staring hard at Alex. It seemed that he had unknowingly blocked out part of Luke's monologue... "You're quiet, you know? You never said much while we were in the hospital, and even when I was here a week ago, you honestly didn't say very much."

Alex shrugged.

"See?"

"It's easier to listen, than to come up with responses." Not to mention it fit with English supposedly being his _second language_...

Luke laughed. "Guess you're right." He cast a gaze around the room. "Have you eaten yet? Ben said something about you not using a stove..."

Alex mentally growled at Ben. He _had_ to tell Luke...? "I'm not supposed to."

"You _have_ eaten something today though, right?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Cereal for breakfast, sandwich for lunch. I'm not supposed to, not _incapable_."

"Yeah, yeah... spaghetti sounds good then? Nothing fancy like I know Ben can make..."

Alex shrugged.

"Fine. Ben said you had a test or something you were studying for... right?"

"Yeah..."

"Good luck with that then. I'm enjoying my time off..."

Alex smiled slightly, and took that as his cue to leave the room. So far, it seemed that Luke was satisfied by the situation and the answers he had already received. Hopefully things wouldn't go too far downhill as the days—and nights—drew on...

* * *

><p>It was two in the morning when Alex stumbled out of his room and down the hall to the kitchen. It was the first time in <em>weeks<em> that a nightmare of had woke him up in the middle of the night, and though he couldn't remember what it had been about, it had unnerved him to the extent that he wasn't sure if he was actually going to be able to fall back asleep again.

The last few nights had been rather restless, but never to the extent that he couldn't sleep. He had been slightly surprised to find that he was _worried_ about Ben. While he knew that the date that he could leave was slowly growing closer... he had definitely formed an attachment. He didn't want to give up what felt like a _good_ situation. Safe, and with some form of comfort at times.

He flicked on a light in the kitchen, shutting his eyes the moment the light came on. It took his eyes a few minutes to adjust, but he knew he way around well enough that he could have practically done it in his sleep. By the time he could open his eyes without squinting, the cup and tea were down from the cupboard, the water was ready to be put on for heating, and the bread and jam were on the table.

A midnight snack.

It was nice to have the few minutes alone time, even _if_ it was because of the nightmare. He knew he'd have to head back to bed eventually, probably after finding his sleeping pills. He couldn't afford to have the nightmares messing with his head, especially when it was so close to his two month limit. Somehow he knew that as long as he made it through the next few nights, and figured out _what_ had brought on the latest round of nightmares, he'd be fine again. It seemed that Ben's talks had gone a long way to helping him.

Alex was working his way through his second cup of tea, and third sandwich, when a voice from behind him startled him.

"Why, _the hell_, are you up _now_? It's like... two." Luke nearly fell into the chair across from Alex. He seemed only half awake, and slightly annoyed. "And please tell me there's still some tea."

Alex nodded toward the counter in a sort of 'help yourself' gesture. It seemed that even in the middle of the night, it was impossible to actually get away from Luke. It did bring up the question as to _why_ he was awake. More often than not, he slept in until nine or ten in the morning.

"Couldn't sleep?" Luke asked, seeming slightly more awake once he had something warm in his hands.

Alex nodded. "You?"

Luke shrugged. "I'm a light sleeper when I'm not at home. I heard you as soon as you opened your door."

"But you sleep in late?"

Luke smiled slightly. "I ignore it. Would've done that now, except for the fact that your door never closed again."

"Oh."

"Listen, I know I'm not really someone you know well, but Ben obviously cares about your well being. I don't really know the relationship between you two—and I'm not asking right now either—but he didn't want something to happen while he was away. From the little he told me, he said if you ever got up in the middle of the night for longer than a few minutes... it wasn't exactly a _good_ sign."

Alex stared at the table. It seemed that Ben had thought of literally everything. "It was just a nightmare." As soon as he said it, he wasn't sure what had made him. He had resolved to not tell Luke _anything_.

"_Just_ a nightmare? So you get them pretty regularly then?"

Alex bit his lip slightly, and shrugged. It was slightly ironic that they were mimicking a conversation he had had with Ben nearly two months previously.

Luke tapped his cup slightly. "Ben knows."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. Alex nodded anyway.

"And it's been a while since the last time."

Alex nodded again.

A hint of a smile crossed Luke's face. "He's a good listener, isn't he?"

Alex glanced up, slightly surprised, before nodding.

"Ben's been through a lot this last year, and he seems to cope by taking on _someone else's _problems. Always the one wanting to help the world." Luke laughed slightly, and got up to put his cup on the counter. "He's been somewhat depressed since August—a couple of his close friends were caught in the Heathrow bombing—sort of a wake up to all of us about our mortality and whatnot. I honestly don't think he would have completely snapped out of it, if he hadn't found something else to focus his attention on. Your timing was perfect, in a sense. And—to borrow something one of my professors said—to help you, you had to help him." He ran a tired hand over his face. "Honestly, I have no idea where I'm going with this... If Ben knows about the nightmares, and you haven't had any recently, I presume Ben's at least _talked_ to you about them. And if he thought it was important enough to tell me to keep an eye out for it... then he must have known that something _could_ happen. So even when he's not here, he's doing his best to help. Which sounds somewhat creepy when you think about it..."

Alex almost smiled. It _did_ seem like Ben liked taking on someone else's problems. He _had_ known that Ben's partner had died in the bombing, but the way Luke said it... there had been more than one person he had lost. Then again, they had never exactly talked about the bombing together. Alex only knew about the partner because he had swiped the book from Ben.

"Ben will be back soon enough, and then he can help you with that nightmare problem. In the meantime, I recommend getting some more sleep. A decent amount—or Ben's going to have my head when he comes back and finds you all zombie-like."

And with that, Luke left.

Alex stared after him for a moment, slightly shocked at how abruptly Luke had left. Maybe he had figured that he had gotten whatever point he was trying to get across, across... He needed to sleep, rather than sulk over something he couldn't remember _or_ talk about.

He downed the last of his tea, before searching through the cupboard with his medicines looking for the sleeping pills. He didn't know why he had had the nightmare, or what it had been about, but he hoped that Ben would be back soon enough that they could tackle it together before it got too much worse.

He was so close to the goal. He _wasn't_ going to let anything as simple as a nightmare keep him from being independent again.

* * *

><p>In the span of three nights, Alex felt like his nightmares had increased in intensity, but had also remained indistinct. Something seemed to be bothering him—unease about something—and it was attacking his mind. There was nothing he could do about it, aside from trying to wish it away in the middle of the night, and eventually giving in to the use of the sleeping pills.<p>

He _hated_ using them.

It made him feel so cut off from the rest of the world. It was like almost anything could happen around him, and he wouldn't even notice. Forced sleep. Eerily, it reminded him far too much of being sedated and that everything was out of his control.

Luckily, Luke seemed to understand somewhat that Alex was having a rough time, and had taken to being a little more considerate. Unlike the first few days, he hadn't recently tried to get any answers from Alex. He had just asked questions about the test Alex was studying for—and received vague answers—before deciding that the silence was better.

It was going on two weeks since Ben left, and honestly, Alex was surprised that Luke wasn't acting more suspicious. It would seem rather odd that someone would say they'd be gone for a certain amount of time, pass that deadline, and not even bother to call. Perhaps Luke thought that Ben was somewhere without a phone...

The prospect of sitting in the kitchen in near silence was preferable to being alone in his room with only the books to keep him company all the time, so on Sunday afternoon, after a very _short_ walk through Hyde Park, Alex waited in the kitchen while Luke made... something. The food was completely unpredictable, but never to the extent that Ben had gone at times. Rice and beans one day, pasta another, and soup yet another were standard fare—though never as spicy as Ben made. Not that Alex minded...

It was just another normal afternoon, between two people staying in a flat that wasn't theirs.

Ever since the start of the nightmares, Alex had practically been on high alert. Any sound out of the ordinary set him off, and the moment he heard a key entering the lock in the front door, Alex had to stop himself from jumping up and pulling out the hidden gun in the kitchen—just in case. A moment later though, a familiar, but long since heard, voice called through the flat.

"Luke? Alec? Is that chili I smell?"

Not too surprisingly, Ben looked exactly the same as he had when he left, definitely giving off the impression that the last thing he had been doing was in any way associated with the world of espionage. In fact, he looked like he might have gotten some sort of tan...

Luke cast a glance over his shoulder before returning to the stove. "The prodigal hath returned."

Ben snorted. "If anyone was a prodigal in this family, it'd be you. Though I have to say, I'm impressed that this place didn't burn down while I was gone."

"Didn't so much as put a dent in the wall."

"Good. Because if you did, you'd be paying." Ben turned toward Alex, signaling with his eyes that they needed to talk. Immediately, a pit of dread settled in his stomach. What could be so important that Ben felt like he couldn't even wait until Luke was gone...?

"We can eat in about ten minutes." Luke said. "Go ahead and dump your stuff, then you can regale us with tales of your travels."

"Yeah, yeah... Hey Alec, I found something that I thought you'd like. One of those old French books, you know?" Something in his expression just said _'go along with it'_, so Alex did.

"Really? Where is it?"

"It's in my bag."

It gave the perfect excuse for Alex to follow Ben out of the room and down the hall. Ben motioned for Alex to wait, while he put his bag into his room, before coming back out with a thick book and a stack of letters.

"Your room." Ben muttered, giving Alex a push toward his door. Alex stared at him for a moment, before going to his room. Ben handed him the stack of letters, all curiously written in French and German.

He glanced over the first one, trying to decipher it, but it seemed like a rather old dialect. "What on earth?"

"In case Luke gets curious." Ben had a grim smile, as he set the thick book down on the desk. He flicked through the book, until a few loose pages fluttered loose, and Ben handed them to Alex. "These do not exist outside of this room. Under no circumstances did I give these to you, and the moment you've finished reading them—destroy them. If these get out accidentally, people are going to get killed. We'll have to talk after Luke leaves... this was the best I could do in the short amount of time I had."

Alex stared at the papers for a moment, before nodding at Ben. Whatever it was, was important. Important enough that it almost sounded like Ben was risking his job to warn Alex about... something. Ben left the room, with barely a second glance, and shut the door, leaving Alex alone. He hadn't even gotten a chance to say hello...

It only took him a few minutes to read through what was obviously a cut down version of several official reports. With each second though, his horror grew, because he knew _exactly_ what the report was getting at, and _why_ Ben had made sure to get it to him, even before Luke left.

The first report was of a retired MI6 officer that had been murdered while on vacation with his family, in northern England—courtesy of a SCORPIA assassin. Well... Alex no longer had to worry about Blunt...

Two other reports followed in the same pattern. SCORPIA—or at least, someone using SCORPIA as a cover—was starting to kill off agents in the UK that had had previous dealings with SCORPIA. After a few months of quiet from the rest of the world, it seemed that SCORPIA had stepped up their attacks.

_SCORPIA and Simurgh... Simurgh and SCORPIA..._ If they were working together, _someone_ was bound to figure out the Alec/Alex relationship. _Soon_.

Five more days.

That was all he needed before he could leave. He'd have to make a new alias, but he'd be ready. _They_ weren't going to get him by chance.

It was time for Alec Pierre to make his last showing, and then... _disappear_. For good.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey look! I'm on time! Errr... and it's another monster post. I think these long chapters are slightly addicting... This was actually supposed to be two different chapters though. The first one annoyed me and had barely anything (anything interesting) in it, so I added the second one. Aren't I nice?**

**Luke is back! I know a couple of you have asked where he wandered off to, but he was back with his parents. I'm not quite sure if I've captured his character from when he was in the hospital, but I guess the differences could be attributed to the fact that he's no longer on those high strength painkillers... and we don't really get to read about his—fruitless—endeavor to get answers from Alex in the first few days they stay together. Did anyone else get hungry reading about those dumplings? Since I put them in, I've wanted to make some... hopefully I'll get to this week.  
><strong>

**So the next update most definitely won't be up on Sunday, and probably not on Monday either. I get to help take fifty little terrors (and not so little ones...) on a camping trip this weekend, so I won't have time to write _or_ edit anything I've written before. We'll see what happens...  
><strong>

**Thanks for the reviews, and the descriptions! And see the brand new "Review this chapter" button down there? Yep, that's what you should press!  
><strong>

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	22. Run

**Disclaimer:** _Alex Rider is not mine. For one, my last name isn't Horowitz..._

**_Previously... _**

SCORPIA and Simurgh... Simurgh and SCORPIA..._ If they were working together, _someone _was bound to figure out the Alec/Alex relationship. _Soon.

_Five more days._

_That was all he needed before he could leave. He'd have to make a new alias, but he'd be ready._ They _weren't going to get him by chance._

_It was time for Alec Pierre to make his last showing, and then..._ disappear._ For good._

**CHAPTER 22: Run**

* * *

><p>Ben put the finishing touch onto the latest paper, and slid it into the waiting envelope. There was more than enough paperwork to keep him occupied for a number of days, if not for weeks. After the mission in Côte d'Ivoire—and the start of the subsequent assassinations in the UK—it went unsaid that Ben wasn't going to be going out on long missions for a while. He was a target, and being a target could endanger the success of any mission he was on.<p>

He wasn't under watch from MI6—yet. Their ranks were still decreased since the bombing, and there weren't a lot of free personnel. Even though it had been months, they were just starting to get the newest recruits out into the field. And new agents weren't exactly the ones to protect against a SCORPIA assassination.

For the time being though, his family was safe—SCORPIA wasn't going after family members, yet. And since Alex was still around, he was relatively safe too.

But Alex wasn't going to be around much longer. He had been less than happy with Ben demanding that he wait to leave until after his doctor cleared him and he had a fresh supply of medicine. Luke had warned Ben about the nightmares when he got back, but they seemed to have disappeared—for the moment. Alex had one last day to make it through before his doctor cleared him, and soon enough he'd be gone.

Over the past three days, Alex had sequestered himself in his room whenever Ben was around, studying and plotting. Ben had no doubt that Alex was out in the city for most of the day otherwise, and when he saw an odd looking package on the table, he _knew_ he really didn't want to know what Alex's plans were. And in the off chance that someone got to Ben, they wouldn't be able to get anything from him about Alex's whereabouts. It would be safer.

Not that he _wanted_ Alex gone...

A knock on the door cause Ben to look up, and after a moment one of the new junior agents—Ben floundered for his name... Farrow, that was it—stuck his head in the door. "Daniels, you're to be in conference room three in ten minutes. It looks like we've got some MI5 friends over as well."

Ben raised an eyebrow. _MI5 as well?_ "Anyone else you were sent to fetch?"

"Kennedy and Rowland."

Ben sighed. "I'll get Rowland on my way out."

Farrow flashed him a grin—really, he was one of the friendlier recruits that had a decent dose of reality—before leaving the room.

Ben couldn't help but sigh again. Including Kennedy and Rowland in whatever was going on probably meant that _someone_ was going to end up out in the field. More than likely, that someone was not going to be him... then again, if it was something with MI5, it might be local enough that he'd at least get out of the building for once.

He stopped in Rowland's office to let him know he was wanted, before heading down the two levels to the conference room. Once there, he exchanged a tight nod with the two MI5 agents present, and took his seat. The room was completely silent for the next few minutes, as the remaining people filtered in, Rowland, Kennedy, Farrow... Eventually, the deputy head, Michael Fabian, walked into the room, carrying a stack of files, which he handed out to each person, effectively starting the meeting.

Ben eyed the odd group of people, wondering just what their objective was. Kennedy was up from the IT section, bringing what Ben assumed was the technical experience to the group. He wasn't exactly high level, but he was reliable. Rowland brought a long string of successful missions, known mostly for bringing down the minor terrorist defectors without much bloodshed. Farrow was the youngest, most likely only assigned because he needed more experience before taking on something big. Ben only recognized one of the MI5 agents, Levendis. Since he was there, more than likely, something was going to relate to Simurgh.

Fabian flicked a switch and turned on the overhead projector. "It has come to our attention that a person of interest is loose in London. Both SCORPIA and Simurgh—most of you are familiar with them—have people searching for this man, for recruitment. SCORPIA would already have him if it weren't for the fact that he continues to kill off their recruiters. He seems to have a grudge against them, and Simurgh is likely to use that to their advantage."

Levendis nodded. "If he's ex-SCORPIA—like we suspect—he'll fit right in with Simurgh. They've been recruiting heavily from SCORPIA's ranks, and at last check, more than half of the operatives we know of are ex-SCORPIA."

Fabian glanced at Levendis, clearly unsurprised by the interruption. "For the past five months, Levendis here has been tracking the movements of Simurgh and to an extent, SCORPIA. Our mystery man has shown up more than once, but I suppose it would be best to start at the beginning. Or at least, with _some_ history of Simurgh." He gestured for Levendis to take over.

Levendis stood up, and flipped through the file slowly. "The older history, from when Simurgh was around in the 80s and 90s, doesn't apply anymore. From a tradeoff we had in February, we—MI5 that is—were able to confirm our suspicions that Simurgh isn't the same as they used to be. Though they've been using the reputation and connections of the _old _Simurgh, their goals are completely different." The slide on the screen changed to a satellite image of a dry looking island, and Levendis waved his hand toward it. "This is their base, just off the coast of Iran, the same one used years ago, making it easy for us once we decide to either infiltrate or bust their compound. The place was sold to a private investor in '09, and over the past few months we've been able to track at least seven active _country_ leaders back to the base."

The slide changed again, so that there were pictures of five different men. "These five are the main leaders of the protests in the African countries—where it seems Simurgh's main focus is—but they aren't the leaders of Simurgh. They're receiving guidance from somewhere, and we presume that it leads back to the main leader, or leaders, as the case may be." The slide changed again, to a grainy and unclear picture of a gruff looking dark-skinned man. "We've traced two others back to here in London. Unfortunately, they are now both dead. This man, who we know as Rezaei, left SCORPIA sometime in January of last year, and was Simurgh's main contact man in the UK up until December."

A meaningful glance was shared between Levendis and the other MI5 agent, and Ben wondered if they had actually come in contact with the man before he died. He _did_ have a sinking suspicion that he knew who their mystery person was, all too well. And it didn't bode well at all.

"The death of Rezaei is when our mystery person first appears. Rezaei was shot and killed from pointblank range—and from the one traffic camera we spotted him on before his death, he was taking a passenger somewhere." A map came up, and Levendis circled an area west of Hammersmith. "We found the abandoned car and some DNA from Rezaei, but nothing more than that. The gun was never found, and most likely followed the body into the river."

While Alex hadn't ever told him the details, it wasn't hard to work out. Alex had been taken, things had happened, and Rezaei had ended up in the Thames river. They were looking for _Alec Pierre_. And _if_ MI6 knew that _Alec_ was _Alex_, he had no chance to escape. As it was, if they were on to him in the slightest, it was already too late.

"The one lead we had, disappeared three days before the body was found, but the same day as Rezaei's projected death date. A Frenchman known as Alec Pierre. Searches into his background have been inconclusive, making the possibility that he's here under an alias very high. It wasn't until recently that we had evidence he was still in the city."

The screen changed, to a picture that was familiar. One of Gordon Ross, the man that had met with MI5 in the park. The one that Alex had eventually killed, to keep from getting taken.

"Gordon Ross. The last known MI5 or MI6 contact was while he was a trainer for SCORPIA. He showed up on our radar in December, taking over Rezaei's position as the leader of Simurgh's forces here in the UK. He met with us in February for a exchange of information—voluntarily—and this happened an hour later."

Levendis hit a button, and a very blurry and indistinct video came up. In the distance, a figure came to the edge of a bunch of trees, a ways away from the shore of the lake. Another figure appeared, and the first one froze.

Ben's first reaction was to look away. He didn't want to see it, knowing what came next and how much it had torn Alex up on the inside for doing what he had to do to stay alive. He was glad that there wasn't any sound...

The two blurred figures seemed to talk to each other for a few minutes, before the smaller one seemed to submit. Then, in the blink of an eye, the smaller figure pulled something out, and the other collapsed. It was all over in a matter of seconds. The smaller figure immediately turned and left, and Ben could almost pick out the tiniest hint of a limp in his hurried movements. It was amazing that Alex hadn't hurt himself.

The figure drifted into the woods again, and the camera changed. After a few moments of waiting, a person came out of the woods, catching the edge of the camera just for the barest hint of a second. Just long enough to get a partial picture of _Alec Pierre_, but not enough to put suspicion on _Alex Rider_.

Fabian took over from Levendis. "This was found just this past week, and is our only reliable picture of Pierre. Analysts have searched the other cameras in the area, but this was our only glimpse. He could have left the country after that, but it seems he hasn't yet. Two days ago, the name _Alec Pierre_ came in from one of our intercity sources in Waterloo. It seems that he's been working on putting together an alias, most likely to leave the country. Once again, there wasn't a single image of him on the cameras in the city, and we know he is skilled at hacking into the system and manipulating the recordings."

He had known that Alex was up to something, and an alias was right along the lines of what he had been thinking of. The fact that someone had seen Alex though... Ben knew that Alex was paranoid about someone following him back to the flat, and routinely took alternate—and usually lengthy—routes back. Just to make sure he wasn't being followed. For now, they were safe. But would Alex even be able to get out of the country without triggering something? Would he even be able to make it through the day?

"The Heads of both MI5 and MI6 think that Alec Pierre could be a very valuable asset to us. He has a grudge against SCORPIA, and his knowledge of how he's using the cameras around the city is extremely valuable—something that he might share with the highest bidder." Fabian frowned slightly, as he glanced at the picture of Alec. "The last thing we want is for him to successfully leave the country. If he does get out, we need to be ready to bring him back. For now, we've been able to pinpoint his location down to a three mile radius from St. John's Wood, due to the fact that he _is not_ perfect. Most likely, there are more images of him somewhere in the city, but we don't have the manpower to look that deeply."

Ben met more than one determined stare in the room, and knew that Alex barely stood a chance. He needed to warn Alex, but... that would mean double crossing MI6. If anyone so much as caught a hint of what he did, he would be out of his job—and into prison—before he even had a chance to defend himself.

This wasn't going to be good...

* * *

><p>It was amazing how quickly the group of people were able to put a plan together. The operation would have normally been run by MI5—since it was still on British soil—but it seemed that since there was the possibility that it could very easily become international, it was best to have MI6 onboard in the first place. And MI6 was slightly better off as far as numbers of personnel—they had had better luck at recruitment than MI5 over the past few months.<p>

While everyone had their own set job, Ben felt like he got one of the worst. If only he had got something that related to Simurgh or SCORPIA, not the one directly looking into Alec Pierre's movements. He and Kennedy were reviewing the security footage that had caught sight of Alec in Kensal Green station, and attempting to trace his movements from there.

Ben already _knew_ where Alec was heading—a rather circuitous route back to the flat after visiting Waterloo—but the last thing he wanted was for MI6 to put two and two together. He was already treading on thin ice and working directly with another person was just making it worse.

"This guy either has too much time on his hands, or he's a natural." Kennedy said, pointing toward one of the screens where they had caught a bare three second glance of _Alec_ wandering through a crowd. "Or it's the wrong person completely."

Ben nodded. The way Alec/Alex moved was completely unsuspicious. It was amazing that MI6 had stumbled across the footage in the first place. There wasn't any doubt that the person on the screen was _Alec Pierre_, but there was no hint of _Alex Rider_ either.

"Found anything on the surrounding streets?" Kennedy asked.

"Not yet..."

"What if we're looking at this the wrong way?"

"What?"

"Well, we're going on the assumption that Pierre is manipulating the cameras, _because he can_. What if he only uses that when there's no other option? There's more than one way to change appearance... like switching the color of his sweatshirt!" Kennedy pointed to the three second clip that Ben had been looking through. "If that sweatshirt was grey the person would look almost the same, right?"

Grudgingly, Ben nodded. One less way for Alex to escape. And they were almost on to him. Ben hoped that Alex hadn't gone out... "So we need to look at each and every _person_?" In some ways, that was better because it would take more time... but the chances that they'd actually _find_ Alec were higher.

"For now, just look for sweatshirts, if we lose him, we can look at other possibilities. This guy might not be as good as we thought—at least, for manipulating the cameras..."

* * *

><p>Hours later, they hadn't gotten much further than finding that Alec had headed east and then north from the station. They had taken one break during the day, and Ben had taken the few minutes alone to leave a message at the flat. Unfortunately, Alex hadn't been in. The chances of him getting caught had skyrocketed...<p>

Farrow burst into the room. "They've found him! Just outside of Bayswater station and heading toward Hyde Park."

From there, everything was a flurry of activity, and before Ben really knew what was going on, he found himself in a van just inside of Hyde Park running surveillance. It was quite different from his other experiences with running ops, mostly because there were so many people working on the one.

Farrow and the other MI5 agent—McNeilson—were trailing Alec, a task that was relatively difficult. Alec was constantly changing directions and destinations, but he stayed out of the public transit system. After more than an hour of twisting and turning around the city, he disappeared into Hyde Park, and the cameras immediately stopped registering his presence.

That had caused upset with Kennedy, as he still hadn't figured out how Alec was manipulating the system. Ben suspected that it all referenced back to the iPod that Smithers had so wisely given Alex before he left. There was something on there that made changing what the cameras recorded very easy. It probably even related to how Alex got out of the country in the first place...

McNeilson was still on Alec's trail though, and he was the first to report that Alec had taken a side route and found a secluded bench. Ben had to bite back an incredulous laugh when McNeilson mentioned that Alec had pulled out a thick textbook and seemed to be studying.

_"Studying?"_ Levendis sounded confused, coming across headset. _"Are you sure?"_

_ "__As positive as I can be. '_Cambridge IGCSE Mathematics_.__'__"_

Kennedy glanced at Ben and raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's certainly different..."

"Are we sure this is the right person?" Ben asked, rather hesitantly. He would have loved to get them off of Alex's trail, but he doubted that there was much he could do.

_"Everything matches."_ Levendis said. The radio crackled for a moment. _"Now, someone tell me how to get a direct link to this camera here."_

After ten minutes of fiddling around with three different cameras in the area, they successfully had a reliable visual of _Alec_ sitting on a bench, reading through the textbook, and occasionally writing something down in a notebook. Ben had no doubt that Alex was trying to get in as much studying as possible, before he had to disappear again. There was no telling if he would have time in the near future to study again—despite Ben's encouragement that he disappear into a school somewhere.

"Visual set." Kennedy said, just as Fabian entered the surveillance van. "We can't get any closer, but we have a picture of the general area."

"Good, that'll work." Fabian stepped up to take over. "Levendis, I need you to make contact. If we can convince him to come with us willingly, everything will go much smoother. Watch out for any hostile movement from Pierre, he's shown that he's not above killing. B-unit will have your back."

Levendis showed up on the edge of a camera, heading along the path that Alex had taken only minutes before. Levendis was still a good distance away—and out of sight—when Alex's head snapped up, and he scanned the area. B-unit had moved in on a perimeter, and it seemed that he had some sort of way of detecting them.

"He's good." Fabian said. "He knows already. Probably knew the entire time we were trailing him."

Ben shifted the view of one of the cameras, but they still didn't have a clear shot of _Alec_. They were still too far away. He was still able to see the movement that had Alex putting the textbook and notebook into his bag, and slipping it over his shoulders. He was ready to flee, and was even prepared to run if needed. And the physical therapist wouldn't get after him anymore either...

Levendis came into the small clearing, almost looking like a normal person. He had even discarded the obvious gun and holster. Nothing like needing to pretend normal... he was even holding a conversation on his phone. Alex glanced at him once, before looking away. There was no doubt that he was still watching Levendis.

Ten minutes passed, and nothing happened. Levendis even took a seat on the second bench in the area. Alex didn't look up, but seemed to be using something. The _iPod_... Checking what was nearby, perhaps? A way of telling how many people were within a certain radius... with radio signals or something like that? It wasn't impossible, because Ben had had a gadget that had worked in a similar way months earlier.

Then Alex made the move that none of them expected. _"What do you want, __Mr. __Levendis?"_ The French accent was clear.

Everyone in the surveillance van froze, as did Levendis. Ben was mentally congratulating Alex for one upping the security service, but also berating him for giving himself away so quickly. Maybe he had crunched the numbers and deemed that it was an impossible situation to get out of...

_"What makes you think I want something?"_ Levendis replied.

_ "The fact that we're surrounded, Mr. Levendis__, by at least one SAS team__. I am just one person. __Surely I don't require that much effort. __Though I have to admit, it__ i__s slightly flattering__." _Alex waved a hand lazily, not even bothering to look toward Levendis. _"Now please, what do you want?_

"Polite too." Kennedy murmured.

"Convince him to come willingly." Fabian instructed. "He's already ready to bolt."

_ "You've had some contact with some people that we're interested in. Naturally, that means we're interested in you as well."_ Levendis said, turning toward Alex. _"After all, it's taken us a great deal of time to find you."_

_"I think not, Mr. Levendis." _Alex brushed some invisible lint off of his clothes. _"You obviously haven't had a lead on me for very long. I would _know_. I'd be surprised if you didn't come across me just by sheer luck. __I'll know better than to go through Kensal Green Station more than once though... clearly, my route isn't random enough."_

_ "You're very skilled at evading the cameras in London."_

_ "I know."_

"Not modest at all." Kennedy said.

Ben suppressed a smile. He had never seen Alex _in action_ before, but he could tell that most of it was just an act. A way to distract the _enemy_ long enough for him to formulate a reliable escape plan. Or for them to underestimate him. It wasn't going to work this time though.

_ "There are lots of uses for skills like that..."_

Alex turned his head, and although Ben couldn't see it, he was sure that Alex was treating Levendis to an icy glare. It even came across in his tone of voice. _"I am well aware of that Mr. Levendis. Now, stop with the parrying of words, and get to your point. Why are you here?"_

_"We're interested in knowing your methods, as well as why you're so against SCORPIA."_

_"Ah... you want my _help_.__"_ Alex muttered something unintelligible that was too quiet to be picked up by the wire Levendis was wearing. _"Can't admit that it's a first though. Well, coming from MI5 it is..." _He nodded to himself for a moment. _"Of course, it isn't just MI5, is it Mr. Levendis? You're here on both of their behalves. You've working with both MI5 and MI6."_

Levendis nodded slightly. _"Very good, Pierre."_

Alex's head snapped up to stare at Levendis again. Ben swallowed and realized that Alex had thought they were there for _Alex_. But they weren't... One of the biggest blunders of the day would be to admit the name of the person they were looking for. There was no way Alex was going to go down without a fight now.

_"I'm not interested." _Alex said, standing up. _"I saved you the effort from having to deal with Rezaei and Ross. And as far as I know, you're this country's current best bet against Simurgh. Don't do something stupid. I'm not a threat."_

_ "Come with me, and prove it."_

_ "No. I don't cater to the whims of the security service."_ He headed down the path, almost directly toward two of the SAS men. Just before he reached the edge of the perimeter, he stopped and spun around to face Levendis. All Ben could see was his back. _"You might wish to think that the security service is__...__ mighty__... uphold ideals... foundation...__ country. They are not."_ His words were garbled, as the microphone struggled to pick up his words.

"Change your perimeter." Fabian said, directing the SAS team. "We don't want to give him a chance to get away. This could be our only chance. Kennedy, amplify their mics. I don't want to miss this."

There was no sign that the team moved at all, but Ben had a feeling they had. Inadvertently leaving a gap on the other side, directly into the woods... The volume raised slightly, and Alex's words were clear once more.

_ "__—__security service is no more than a self-serving government_ appendage_ that uses their agents until they are spent. For the _good_ of the country."_ Alex spat the words, and Ben wasn't sure if Alex truly believed what he was saying or not. There was no teasing tone of sarcasm. _"You know nothing if you think that you are safe. The security service doesn't truly care about their own, unless it affects their ability to serve. When you've been sent out with barely healed injuries,_ that _is when you will finally understand._ They don't care._ And it will be too late for you."_

In that moment, when everyone was pondering over his words, Alex bolted, right through the gap he had created by stringing their people along. All through some simple manipulation.

Fabian jumped into action, directing the SAS the moment Alex disappeared from sight into the trees. The cameras were nigh useless now that Alex was on the loose, and there was no way to tell if any of the other cameras in the park were affected by Alex's tampering. For all they knew, all the cameras in the park could be nonfunctional.

"What the hell was that?" Kennedy finally asked, once they were just waiting to hear back from the SAS team.

"_That_ was some very skillful manipulation." Fabian said. "From one that seems to have a very deep grudge against the security forces. I wonder why..."

_Because certain people forced him..__._

Chatter from the SAS came across, as they coordinated their movements. Chasing the figure currently dashing through the forest. Kennedy started looking through cameras, but so far there wasn't a sign of anyone. SAS or otherwise.

Five minutes later, a triumphant voice came over the radio. _"We'__ve got him__.__ T__he t__ranquilizer should wear off in __about __three ho—"_ The man trailed off, before swearing loudly. _"__The tranquilizer's not working properly, and Seal says it's some sort of allergic reaction. He's not prepared to treat it.__ We need a medic immediately.__"_

Just what Alex needed...

* * *

><p>It had taken hours. Hours of showing proof after proof to Mrs. Jones that Alec Pierre was really Alex Rider and that the last thing they wanted was for MI5 to find that out. Ben had no doubt that Alex was going to be mad at him afterwards, but it had been the only option. The only way to keep the mess from getting completely out of hand.<p>

MI5 had taken _Alec Pierre_ into custody the moment a doctor deemed him stable enough for transport. The allergic reaction had thrown his system completely out of order, and Ben had to hope that missing one night of anti-seizure medicine wouldn't bring around a relapse. Alex would go on a killing spree if he had another... and it had been _someone's_ fault.

Alex had still been unconscious when they had transferred him to a holding cell in the basement of MI5's headquarters, but no one had seemed overly concerned. Except for Ben spending most of the night awake and pacing his flat. It was strange to be alone in it again...

Through some sort of political maneuvering, Mrs. Jones had managed to make it so that _Alec Pierre_ would be moved to a holding cell in MI6, and questioned _there_. Ben wasn't sure how she had managed it, but he was certainly glad. Nothing was going to be revealed to MI5, unless deemed absolutely necessary.

So, Friday morning found Ben walking into the newly renovated headquarters of MI5. It was nothing like Thames House, which the public presumed was the headquarters—but was really where the training center and corresponding offices were. MI5 was better at hiding their entrance than that, and the few that actually found the real headquarters were almost always offered a job.

Ben, being MI6, received a few curious glances, before McNeilson—from the day before—showed up to escort him to where the _prisoner_ was being held.

"Moving Pierre is just going to give him another chance to get away." McNeilson said, after swiping their security passes through the scanner in the lift. "I don't understand why MI6 can't just question him here..."

Ben shrugged. "They just told me to come get him. I guess it was the joint decision that he'd be more use to MI6."

"Hmm... guess so." The lift opened, and the two of them stepped off into a slightly dismal looking hallway.

_If the lights were flickering, it'd be perfect for a horror movie..._ Ben mused, before once again stamping down on the out of place emotion that came up.

"He's in there." McNeilson swiped his card through the lock. "We've got everything off his person in a bag. I can get that, while you get him. He's already handcuffed, but you might want to switch them out for something sturdier. He seems like the type that would know how to pick a lock."

Ben nodded, and slipped in the door. Alex was lying on the bed, his wrists handcuffed together. His eyes were closed for the moment, but Ben knew he wasn't sleeping. "Pierre! Get up."

Alex's eyes flew open, staring at Ben in shock before an unreadable emotion crossed his face. He shifted to a sitting position. Judging by how wild his hair looked, it obviously hadn't been an easy night. "Wha—?"

"You're coming with me." There was no way he could say more than that. Not without inadvertently telling the people watching the security footage more than they should know. "Some people would like to talk to you."

"We're... at MI5... oui?" Alex blinked at Ben for a moment, before things seemed to come into focus again.

"Yes, but we're going somewhere else."

Alex stared at him, frowning slightly.

Ben switched out the handcuffs while Alex was still only halfway aware of what was going on around him. It was almost like how he acted after a... but no, if something had happened, they would have said something. A knock on the door brought Ben out his musing, and he tugged on Alex's arm. Almost grudgingly, the teen stood up and allowed Ben to push him toward the door.

Once they were back in the hallway, with the _prisoner_ complacently walking along, Ben took the bag of possessions from McNeilson and they headed back up to the main level. He was starting to have some serious doubts as to what all had happened to Alex in the past twelve hours, based on the fact that the teen didn't act like himself at all. Seemed to be in a daze of sorts...

They reached the _official car_ without any mishaps, and Ben wasn't quite sure who was more relieved to be rid of the place. The moment they were two blocks away from the headquarters, Alex seemed to thaw and be more like his usual self.

"You're okay?" Ben asked, sending a glance toward Alex.

"Yeah..." He rubbed his forehead lightly. "I don't suppose you getting me out of there, means that I'm free to disappear, does it? You had to pull strings somewhere. They seemed pretty determined that I had the answers to everything."

"Sorry, but it's what some people call _damage control_. Everyone in the world was going to know that _Alex Rider_ is alive, or it was only going to be a select few. Mrs. Jones has even decided that you need to be put into protective custody—and not just because of your alias as Alec Pierre."

"So we're going there?"

"Yeah..." They stopped at a red light, and Ben rummaged in his pocket for the keys to the handcuffs. "Here, get those off. There's a change of clothes in the backseat, as well as your medicine and a sandwich. You're sure you're okay? You weren't really... behaving right."

Alex laughed, and started working at the lock. "Underestimation, Ben. They were more likely to be sloppy if I acted like I was still out of it." He shrugged, before flexing his newly freed wrists. "So what exactly happened yesterday? I mean, how'd they get on to me?" Ben could feel Alex's gaze on him. "It wasn't you. I... something tells me it wasn't..."

"No, it wasn't. And I'm glad you understand that. They pulled together the people for searching for Alec Pierre yesterday. You were already out by the time I tried to send a warning... and they caught a lucky lead. Most of it was pure luck."

"Figures..." Alex muttered. "Luck always seems to work against me... when it's convenient."

Ben watched Alex out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the ride, and couldn't help but noticed that he was looking more than just slightly annoyed. It was to be expected though... today was the day that he was supposed to get cleared for living on his own again. Instead, it seemed that fate was pulling him back to where he had longed to escape from. He had more than enough reason to be annoyed with life in general.

"You might want to pull your hood up, at least, until we're in Mrs. Jones' office. We can't really risk someone accidentally coming across you again." Ben said, pulling into a parking space. "Once we're in her office, you'll be safe."

Alex sent him a glare, before pulling his hood up. Now he looked almost exactly like a sulking teenager. Ben repressed the smirk, and led the way into the Royal and General Bank, keeping a firm grip on Alex's shoulder. No one spared them a second glance, the main secretary recognizing Ben from his daily foray through the lobby. Obviously, if Ben was pulling someone toward the lifts, they had a reason to be there.

Ben swiped his card for the lift, punched a number to confirm that he was bringing an extra passenger, and pushed Alex through the open doors. The moment the doors closed, he placed his hand on the scanner and then typed in the code. He was already cleared for the extra passenger, _and_ the fact that he was carrying a gun on his person.

Alex sent a glance in Ben's direction. "That's... complex."

"Level Two security. It was turned on in December, after a hit was made on the Prime Minister. Didn't go over well with the press, and the place has been on alert ever since. You get used to it after awhile."

Alex smirked. "I can imagine."

The lift didn't stop until they had reached the sixteenth floor, leaving no doubt that they were to go directly to Mrs. Jones' office. The secretary just waved them through, having been instructed to let Ben through the moment he arrived. Out of habit, Ben knocked slightly, before pushing the door open, and pulling Alex inside behind him.

As usual, Mrs. Jones was sitting behind her desk. "Daniels."

Alex shook his hood off, caught sight of another person in the room, and before Ben could react, Alex had taken Ben's gun and was pointing it at another agent. The other agent reciprocated, glaring at Alex.

"What the hell is _he_ doing here?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry... I know I said this would be up last week, but... this chapter has been giving me hell. I rewrote the beginning about five times, and it wasn't until Thursday that I finally figured out how to start the chapter. And now it's grown to a behemoth length. *sigh***

**So, _who_ do you think is in Mrs. Jones' office? And what's up with Alex's reaction? I know a lot of you thought that Alex was going to leave with a new alias, but the story just wasn't going in that direction. I feel like parts of it are somewhat abrupt, but I was really trying hard to get this chapter up... if you notice it anywhere, telling me what exactly would be helpful, and I might be able to expand on it a bit. Maybe.  
><strong>

**I don't know if the next chapter will be out next Sunday or not. It all depends on how much I have going on. Graduation here, classes to finish, and tons of rehearsals in the next three weeks for my choir, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have for writing. I will do my best though, because you guys are such an amazing audience! And the reviews I've gotten in the past week have really helped me remember that I need to be working on this! So... *cough* review please. It helps more than you can ever know.  
><strong>

**S.B.L.  
><strong>


	23. Old Friends or Enemies?

**Disclaimer: **_If you honestly think I own Alex Rider, you should probably get your head checked. Who knows what other delusions you might __have?__ If that wasn't clear enough, no, I don't own Alex Rider._

_**Previously...**_

_The lift didn't stop until they had reached the sixteenth floor, leaving no doubt that they were to go directly to Mrs. Jones' office. The secretary just waved them through, having been instructed to let Ben through the moment he arrived. Out of habit, Ben knocked slightly, before pushing the door open, and pulling Alex inside behind him._

_As usual, Mrs. Jones was sitting behind her desk. "Daniels."_

_Alex shook his hood off, caught sight of another person in the room, and before Ben could react, Alex had taken Ben's gun and was pointing it at another agent. The other agent reciprocated, glaring at Alex._

_"What the hell is _he_ doing here?"_

**CHAPTER 23: Old Friends... or Enemies?**

* * *

><p>The question echoed around the room, as they faced off, scowling at each other. Alex was already wracking his brain for ways of escape. But... Ben had brought him here. Surely that meant <em>something<em>. He could have sworn he heard a sigh from Mrs. Jones, as Ben patted his side hopelessly looking for his gun. In a matter of seconds, the two other people in the room—aside from Ben and Mrs. Jones—were pointing their guns at Alex as well.

"Ben? I thought you said we'd be _safe_." He longed to glare at Ben, but wasn't about to take his eyes off the man in front of him. He wasn't going to give him any opening. There would be no chance to shoot him. No chance at all. "Jones, call off your pets."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wave her hand toward the men. "You heard him."

Only the original man refused to lower his gun. But then, that might have been because Alex still had a gun pointing at him... then again, there really wasn't a reason why he would respond to Mrs. Jones' commands. She wasn't his _boss_. "What the hell are you doing here _Alec_?" He demanded. "Still running from your SCORPIA buddies, and killing off the ones that try to bring you back?"

Alex scowled at him. "They're not my buddies, _Kleczka_."

"Of course. And that's why you ran out on me the moment someone started asking questions."

"I don't like people prying."

Kleczka gave a derisive snort. "Yes, you certainly made that clear. So what are you doing now? Come running to MI6 to snitch on your _old friends_? So they can give you protection from the big bad that decided you were more trouble than you were worth?"

Alex bristled at the tone, and took a threatening step forward. "Shut up." Kleczka jerked back slightly, before glaring full force at Alex. "I'm not the one making contact with SCORPIA _agents_ and then expecting everything to go well. I wouldn't have stuck around if I had known!"

"Listen here, brat—"

"Gentlemen." Mrs. Jones cut off Kleczka. "Stand down, and we can continue this conversation in a civilized manner."

"He goes first." Kleczka growled.

Alex glared at him. "Not happening."

"_Agent Braden_, you will stand down, _now_." If Alex didn't know better, he would have thought that Mrs. Jones was channeling her predecessor...

It took a few minutes for what she said to register in his mind. _Agent Braden_. The name was... familiar... But Kleczka couldn't be an _agent_. He had been selling guns to terrorists... actively meeting with a SCORPIA agent... _Running an undercover op_?

His heart stuttered for a second, as things started to click into place. There were a few obvious pieces out of order, but it seemed that within only a few weeks hidden away, he had managed to stumble onto something MI6 related. And survived undercover for _months_, without them getting suspicious.

_Agent Braden_. The name was familiar because he had been in Ben's file. The agent that had worked with Ben on his first mission, the _mentor_ of sorts. _Levendis' cousin_.

"With all due respect, _ma'am_—" And it was clear that Kleczka—or Braden, as he was officially known—was bordering on complete _disrespect_. "—this _man_ is wanted in connection to two murders within the past four months, _and_ for turning us over to SCORPIA."

Alex's grip tightened for a moment, glaring at the man. Right now, he didn't care if the man was an agent, he was _accusing_ him falsely. "I did not!"

"I am not prepared to leave him armed." Braden continued, as if Alex had never interrupted. "He's proven he's not above killing."

There was a clear sigh from Mrs. Jones. "I am well aware of his current... _legal status_, Braden. However, I know he will not shoot me, or any of the other occupants in this room—aside from you, of course. Stand down, and we'll be able to peacefully diffuse the situation."

Alex snorted inwardly. _Aside from you, of course_.

Braden scowled at Alex, before throwing an incredulous glace toward Mrs. Jones, and lowering his gun. After a few extra seconds, he reholstered it. The moment Alex was sure that Braden wasn't going to try to pull it again, he turned around and pushed the gun toward Ben. Ben looked at him, mild amusement showing in his eyes, and Alex scowled at him. Leave it to Ben to find the situation amusing.

"Have a seat, all of you." Mrs. Jones said, waving her hand toward the set of empty chairs. Enough for each person in the room. It seemed that Braden wasn't the only one that was going to be present for... _this_. "I think we have a lot of explaining to do."

Alex wasn't exactly keen on moving, but Ben pulled him toward the empty chairs. It took Alex all of ten seconds after sitting down to identify the two others in the room. Rosen—or whatever his true name was, considering he was probably an agent as well—cast a wary glance toward Alex, but seemed slightly less formidable than the tough 'bouncer' from before. And there was Levendis as well, though Alex couldn't fathom why there was a person from MI5 present. Especially if they didn't want the secret getting out...

He still wasn't happy that he had been caught and brought in, in the first place, but there wasn't much he could do now. At least Ben had managed to get him away from MI5. Things would have gone completely downhill if he had stayed.

"Alex, I expect you will behave?"

Alex glared at the floor. "Yes, ma'am." Honestly, he couldn't have imagined a worse way for his first meeting with the Head of MI6 since _dying,_ to go. He allowed himself a moment to sulk over the unfairness of it all, before pulling himself together. Now was not the time to go off on a tangent and miss what else was going on.

"Good. Braden, what is your connection with Alex?"

"_Alec Pierre_." Alex could practically _feel_ the animosity radiating from Braden. "That's the only name I know _him_ by. He turned up at the pub just after Soo Jin's murder, and hinted strongly that he knew more about what was going on than he was saying. His background check came back clean, but... it was _too_ clean. He stayed for three months."

Alex sighed. Of course, _they_ would be the ones to worry about a _too clean_ record. Didn't they understand that if he had the ability to hack into cameras, it would be just as easy to clear his record if he so wished? Not that he had done that... it was all the job of a well paid forger.

"He seemed normal enough for the next few months, never liked it when one of the _other_ customers came in though. He always made himself scarce once his shift was over, unless it was a double shift. Then he usually slept in the pub for a few hours. Then Rezaei came in, and Alec started acting shifty. Hanover tipped us off about his reaction, so we confronted him. Didn't think we'd actually confirm our suspicions though... Mendelssohn trailed him back to his flat, and when it was clear that he wasn't planning to make an appearance in the morning, went in. No one had lived in the flat within the past year. The trail went cold after that, Rezaei turned up dead, SCORPIA's out for blood, and Simurgh bombed the pub."

Alex stared at the floor, his mind turning over this new information. It had never occurred to him that SCORPIA might go after the pub owners, just because they were the last known place of contact. And of course, the fact that the pub had been bombed... that was just odd. It must have happened while he was still in the hospital... _Ben's hectic day_. He had mentioned that a building had exploded, but hadn't said _where_. It hadn't mattered then... but Alex was willing to bet that it had been the pub. He _had_ mentioned meeting another agent there, after all.

"Alex?"

His head snapped up, meeting Mrs. Jones' gaze. It was clear that she had already put together most of the pieces, since she had fragments of Alex's story as well. Not that he knew how much Ben had told her...

"What were you doing there?"

Alex shrugged. "I was just looking for a job, and _reputable_ places refused to hire foreigners after the bombing. After doing some searching, the pub seemed like the best place." He felt Ben stiffen beside him, and remembered that he had claimed he had been working at a shop on Oxford Street. He was going to get it later... "I wasn't expecting them to bring SCORPIA back... an-and I needed an employer that wouldn't look too deep into my background—_guess they did anyway_—and robbing ATMs for the rest of my life isn't exactly what I see as ideal."

Mrs. Jones raised an eyebrow. "That was you? I don't remember you being so skilled with computers."

"Smithers."

That earned a shocked glance from Braden, and a suppressed laugh from Ben.

"Ah... and you did this because...?"

"It was either that or starving to death. I used the majority of my money getting a new alias, especially since I couldn't exactly go parading around that I was _dead_. Flats aren't exactly cheap either. And because of the bombing, there weren't very many jobs. So I had to create one."

"Bringing us back to the pub."

"The pub had shady dealings—gun dealers—and while I didn't _approve_, I figured it would be a good cover. _Safe_." He spat the word out. If he hadn't been so careless in the beginning, he wouldn't be in the situation. He would probably be off in some foreign land, not worrying about SCORPIA—_much_—or having ever heard of Simurgh. "It was fine until SCORPIA—Rezaei—showed up. The rest is history I guess... I lost Rosen in a building of flats, ran until Rezaei caught me, jumped out of a moving car, and... yeah." He stopped, not wanting to complete the thought aloud. It was one thing to think it, but another to admit it where others could hear him. He had only done that the once with Ben.

"And...?"

Alex stared at the carpet in the office, truly uncomfortable. "I... don't want to talk about it." He said, quietly. Ben squeezed his arm lightly, wordlessly getting across the point that he didn't _have to_.

"Very well then." Alex wondered just how much Ben had told Mrs. Jones to convince her that _Alec Pierre_ was _Alex Rider_. Surprisingly, he found that he didn't really care. "Official introduction are in order then. Agents Braden, Mendelssohn, and Levendis, this is Alex Rider, one of Britain's best kept secrets. As of August last year, he was confirmed dead—and believed dead until yesterday when Daniels brought it to my attention. This is all of the utmost secrecy, as no one can know that he is alive."

He nearly snorted at the title Mrs. Jones gave him. _Best kept secret?_ Only because nearly everyone he went up against was dead, imprisoned, or a criminal. No one ever knew the identity of their mysterious savior...

Mrs. Jones picked up a set of files from her desk, and flipped through the top one. "You have all been called here, regarding one similar threat you all share—barring Levendis—SCORPIA and Simurgh." She sent a knowing glance toward Alex. "While you might have truthfully stumbled across SCORPIA and Simurgh accidentally, there is no doubt that they want you. I don't believe they're aware that _Alex Rider_ is alive though."

"As far as we know, their prerogative was to get Alec Pierre." Levendis said, speaking up for the first time. "Despite the, er... _deaths_, Simurgh was still planning to recruit him... er, _you_."

"Obviously, we can't let that happen." Mrs. Jones said, casting a glance at the papers in front of her. "And since SCORPIA or Simurgh are actively hunting for Daniels, Braden, and Mendelssohn as well, we might as well consolidate our resources. It will be easier to keep the four of you under watch, than four separately."

And an excellent way to make sure that he didn't try to leave...

"Your security detail will consist of a SAS unit, and there will be a direct line to headquarters here at all times." She handed Alex a file, and he glanced at the title. _Rider, Alex_. _TOP SECRET._ He snorted. Of course it was. It was surprisingly thick, but if it covered _all_ of his missions... "Your operational files will be given to the unit, so that they are familiar with what else might be a threat. Alex, I'm giving you the opportunity to review yours since I doubt you've ever seen it."

Alex felt the curious eyes on him, as he flipped through the first few pages. There was no picture—or birthdate, for that matter—just a general physical description, the initials _AJR_, as well as a list of the aliases he had used in his missions. If it fell into the wrong hands, there would be no solid_ evidence_ to differentiate him from hundreds of other _AJR's_ in the country. Of course, the other three were probably wondering what he had done to have earned a file—and a thick one, at that—with MI6.

There were more details on his missions than he would have liked, but there wasn't much he could do about it. If anything, MI6 was thorough. The last few pages were of interest... details of his last day with the Pleasures, as well as MI6's take on his running away. The details that they _thought_ they knew. There were a few pages on the bombing, but it was mainly details as to _why_ there was no body, and _why_ DNA tests were impossible. There had been no way to scientifically _confirm_ his death.

"Levendis, you need to be the contact between us and MI5." Mrs. Jones said, moving on. "They cannot know about Alex. If the details were to leak to the right person, more than just one person would be in danger for their life. There are bound to be questions about where _Alec Pierre_ disappeared to, so we need you to field those."

Levendis snorted. "Holding back from my own employer? I'll be sure to let him know the orders came directly from you when this is over."

"See that you do." She turned to Ben. "Daniels, you have current custody over Alex, though that has minimal legal bearing since he is considered _dead_. The Pleasures' will be informed when this... _fiasco_ is all over, and Alex's future can be decided from there."

Alex glared at Mrs. Jones. "I'm not going back to them. I left for a reason, and I don't want to go back to San Francisco."

Mrs. Jones sighed. "Very well. You still need a guardian when this is all over. We'll worry about that at another time."

"Can't you just emancipate me?" It would solve so many problems, and no one would be holding him down anymore. Not that Ben had...

Ben put a hand on his arm. "Worry about it later, Alex. We'll have plenty of time."

"Guardian? Emancipated? Just how old _are_ you?" Surprisingly, it was Ros—_Mendelssohn_, who asked the question. He had been so silent that Alex had almost forgotten about him.

Alex couldn't help but grimace. They had thought he was at least eighteen—because Alec Pierre was eighteen. But eighteen year olds didn't need a guardian.

"Sixteen as of last month." Mrs. Jones informed them. "Though since August, he's been masquerading as a bit older than that."

Alex felt the glare radiating from where Braden was sitting, and resolutely stared at the file in his hands. _No eye contact_.

Levendis let out a long rush of air. "You're telling me, that the person we've been tracking for the last three months, the one responsible for... the death of two high ranking Simurgh agents, is _barely sixteen_? A _kid_? The one that talked me into a corner yesterday, berated the security forces, and very nearly outwitted a SAS team?"

Alex stared at the floor. "I did get caught."

"Only because they got a lucky shot. I heard what happened. You would have been away if the dart hadn't ricocheted. Even then, you might have been able to push off the effects if you hadn't had the reaction."

Alex shrugged. If Levendis wanted to defend him, then he wasn't about to stop him. He rubbed his arm, which was still sore from where the dart had hit. It hadn't all been luck. He knew he couldn't have kept running much longer, not without risking serious damage to his knee. Even capture by MI5 had seemed preferable to going through surgery and rehab all over again.

"Whatever the case..." Mrs. Jones cut through, before Levendis could continue down his trail of thought. "Alex, you will remain _dead_ for the time being."

Alex shrugged. "It's easier to stay alive when I'm dead."

Mrs. Jones nodded. "For now, Alex, Braden, and Mendelssohn, you will go to the safe house. Daniels you'll go back to your flat, and gather whatever you need, as well as make the proper excuses to your family. I expect a _detailed_ report on Alex's activity in the past few months, by next week. I need to know who else he might have accidentally _annoyed_."

Ben winced slightly, and Alex didn't blame him. _Paperwork_... But what Alex's mind had caught on to, was the first part. He was to go with _Braden and Mendelssohn_. The last thing he wanted was to be in a car—or house—alone with the two of them. They could tear him apart between the two of them...

"Levendis, you'll run interference, until Daniels is at the safe house. Then come back for a debriefing." Mrs. Jones closed the file in front of her, and put it into a box. "As soon as the SAS team notifies us, we'll start things moving. In the mean time, Daniels? Smithers expressed a desire to see you. I'm sure he'll keep the fact that Alex is around again, under wraps."

Alex wasn't sure if he had ever felt like smiling at Mrs. Jones before, but he certainly did now. She was providing him with a temporary out. At least then he'd have a chance to straighten things out with Ben... and to see Smithers again would be a good thing. There was no telling what kind of gadgets he might get...

Ben led the way out the door, once again prompting Alex to pull his hood up. The less people saw of him, the better. The last thing they needed was for someone—particularly someone leaning toward Simurgh or SCORPIA—to put things together, and figure out that Alec Pierre was in MI6, and that his alias was just that. An alias. It wouldn't take too long from there, and Alex was sure that as soon as someone started the ball rolling, the organizations weren't going to give up until they had _Alex Rider_ in their grasp.

"So, what happened to working on Oxford Street?" Ben asked, teasing slightly. "I thought you had actually made a smart move for once. A pub..." He shook his head, and Alex grinned. At least he didn't seem mad about that...

* * *

><p>The ride to the safe house was less than pleasant. Ben had all but pushed Alex toward the car he was supposed to be going in, and promised to get everything out of Alex's room. All the books. His laptop. All the secret files. Everything. Even then, Alex would have much preferred to go with Ben, instead of the two people that were both strangers and not strangers at the same time.<p>

Neither Braden nor Mendelssohn said very much, especially not toward Alex. Alex wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. Every now and then Braden—who wasn't driving—sent a cautious glance over his shoulder, as if making sure that Alex was still there. Alex resisted the urge to glare at the man who had once been his boss, and instead settled for watching the scenery fly by.

They were heading out of the city, away from the hustle and bustle of traffic, and it only took a matter of minutes and turns before Alex was completely lost. He had no idea where he was, or where he was going, and it didn't exactly sit well with him. He liked knowing. Things being out of his control and knowledge bothered him.

Stoplight, red. Wait. Green, go. Race. Dodge cars. Every time they stopped at a light Alex was tempted to make the same decision he had made while he was with Rezaei. To jump out while he still had a chance. But he knew that that wouldn't get him anywhere. Braden would just chase him down... and it was as good as signing his own death warrant.

Eventually the office buildings faded to town houses, to houses with a little more space between them, to groups of trees between the houses, to full blown forests, with towns here and there. The roads gradually got more worn, until Mendelssohn took an unexpected turn onto a dirt road that seemed to lead to nowhere.

Alex watched the trees flash by for a while, before deciding that the flashing lights were just going to give him a headache. He didn't gain anything by looking out. He was in the middle of nowhere, and for all he knew, he could have been heading toward hell on earth—otherwise known as Brecon Beacons. He wasn't though. It was in the wrong direction... he could tell that much, despite the heavy clouds that were working their way over them.

Then it started raining. A literal downpour.

He glared at the sky for a second, wondering just what else life could throw his way. Dreary, miserable... this was not the way he had imagined spending the two months no-seizure mark. If anything, he had always imagined himself getting ready for his great journey. For leaving behind the comforts of London, and striking out on his own officially.

He had made plans to head to Switzerland, via Germany, Norway, and Spain. Three different identities, all with suitable back stories. One to leave the country with, one to get a job in Zurich with, and yet another just for the simple explanation of why he was attending an international school. He had taken Ben's advice to heart, and had planned to attend a school—at least for a few months—at the beginning of the next year. From there, his prospects wouldn't have been so dismal.

They were now.

He was stuck with MI6 for who knew how long. And it seemed that Mrs. Jones was determined to keep him within range. His suspicions that she would use him the moment she found him, had disappeared over the past few months, but Alex couldn't help but admit to himself that _anything_ to do with MI6 unnerved him. He had _just_ gotten used to, and comfortable with, Ben. Now he had to go through it all over again, not only with a person that had been his employer, but with a whole team of men that he wanted nothing to do with.

A crash of thunder startled him out of his musing, and he returned his attention to the road ahead. Braden was peering through the window and rain, seeming to be searching for some sort of marker. Maybe they were to turn off somewhere...

"There. Right there." Braden said, pointing toward what Alex could only make out as more forest. After a moment though, they were under the shadow of the trees, protected from some of the rain, and Alex was able to make out the muddy excuse for a road in front of him.

Hopefully they'd reach the destination soon. Alex wasn't sure if he could take the silence too much longer. The least someone could have done was turn the radio on, or something. Something to give the deathly silent car some kind of background noise—white noise. Not that Braden or Mendelssohn seemed bothered by it. Maybe it was all an intimidation tactic.

The car exited the protection of the trees, but only for a few minutes. Before Alex could really recognize the house in front of him, their car had pulled into the garage. The sudden freedom from the pounding rain made the car seem even more silent than before. Soon enough, even the hum from the car disappeared, and the only sound he could hear was the rain pounding down on the roof of the garage.

Braden sent another glance back toward Alex. "Come on, then."

The words broke the silence, and the three of them got out of the car. Alex wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to be doing, so he settled for following Braden and Mendelssohn inside. Braden called out something once they were inside, that Alex suspected was some kind of code word. Something to keep whoever was there from shooting them the moment they stepped inside.

"We were wondering when you'd make it." A voice said, from one of the other rooms. "Have any trouble finding the turnoff? Micah passed it twice—in good weather."

"Nah. Chris kept an eye out. He's been here a time or two." Mendelssohn said, heading toward the voice. Braden glared at Mendelssohn for a moment, before casting a wary glance back at Alex. Obviously, he still wasn't sure what they were supposed to do with him.

Alex followed them, but stopped in the doorway, still partially out of sight. Taking in the room's occupants, splayed out around the room, Alex cursed his luck. It was like the night after the confrontation with Ross, all over again. With one small difference. They hadn't noticed him yet.

K-unit wasn't as laidback and relaxed as they had been that one night, but they still weren't the scowling, fierce men that had tormented him at training. The only small glimpse of normality was the fact that Wolf—otherwise known as Sebastian—was dismantling and cleaning a gun in the middle of the room.

"Our orders said there'd be four of you." Dmitri said. "Three active agents, and one retired. Ben didn't come with you?"

Braden and Mendelssohn shared a confused glance. Alex was slightly surprised as well. _Retired_. Mrs. Jones actually considered him a _retired agent_. It was an odd thought. Retried by sixteen—fifteen, actually, since he hadn't _worked_ since the summer.

"He had some things to wrap up before he got here..." Braden glanced in Alex's direction, and Alex hastily took a step back. He didn't want to confront them, just yet. "You said a _retired agent_?"

"That's what the orders said. Didn't they inform you who all would be in the safe house?"

"They did..." Braden said slowly, obviously trying to work things out. "Just... he's not exactly old enough to be _retired_..."

"They get younger and younger, every year." Snake said, and Alex could hear the teasing tone in his voice. "The problem is, you're just getting closer and closer to their age."

"No... that's not it. The thing is... he's not exactly _old enough_ to even have a job in the first place."

The room fell silent. There wasn't even a sound from where Wolf was. Alex edged forward, until he could see just a glimpse of the room beyond. No one was moving, and they all seemed to be staring at Braden and Mendelssohn with varying levels of surprise.

"Who is he, then? A _kid_?" There was only one person that Alex could think of that could put that much expression into such a short word, and that was Wolf. Though he barely knew the man, he couldn't help but bristle at the effects of the word.

Summoning up the remainder of his energy—as he was practically running on empty from his night at MI5—he formed the fiercest scowl he could, and entered the room, scowling directly at Wolf. "Yeah, a _kid_. Have a problem with that?" He bit his tongue to keep from giving away too much, too quickly, and settled for glaring at the man instead.

Wolf looked slightly taken aback—as did pretty much everyone else in the room—but soon Alex found Wolf glaring right back at him. "You're the kid that was staying with Ben."

"I was."

"But...?"

"SCORPIA and Simurgh don't like me. So Jones decided it was best to put _all_ of us into protection." He sneered at Wolf. "I'm sure I don't have to spell it out for you."

A hand pulled him back a few steps, and Alex swung around to glare at the newest intrusion. He stopped himself halfway through striking out at Mendelssohn. It seemed that they hadn't learned to leave him alone _yet_. Mendelssohn dropped his hand, but looked at Alex with an amused expression. "It's normally not a good idea to antagonize your protectors."

Alex snorted. "Whatever." He pushed past Wolf, and headed toward the stairs. "Which is my room?"

"On the end, blue and green." Snake said. "Not much for a window though."

Alex shrugged, and started heading up.

"Wait! You never explained why they said a _retired agent_. I presume you know something about that."

Alex stopped halfway up the stairs, and turned around to look at the group below him. Six people—well, really five, since he barely knew Dmitri—that he didn't want to spend the next who knew how many months with. He might have been able to adapt to living with Ben, but sudden immersion into his past again was bringing out his defenses. He wanted nothing to do with the people below him.

And he wasn't sure who he disliked more. K-unit or the two from the pub. Neither group made him feel comfortable. Something told him it was going to be a very long few weeks—or months.

"If I knew, why would I tell you? I'm sure you'll pull it out of Ben as soon as he gets here." Alex shrugged, trying to seem casual. He _knew_ that as soon as Ben there, any charade he had going would be gone. They would read his file, and know him almost as well as Ben. All in the matter of a few hours... when it had taken Alex _weeks_ to open up to Ben.

Wolf glared at him.

Alex glared right back. "You're not going to die of curiosity, _Wolfie_. If anyone does, it'll probably be Eagle who goes first." He bit his lip, taking in the shocked expressions, before running up the rest of the stairs—thank goodness he could run again!—and down the hall, to where his new room awaited. The door slammed shut behind him, and he immediately locked it, before adding a specialized brick—courtesy of Smithers—in front of it. No one would be able to open the door without his permission—minus Ben who knew what he was up against, and had the one tool that would deactivate the brick.

Alex glanced around the room. It was much bigger than anything he had had in the past seven months. The one window in the room, opened into a small alcove, but didn't shine into the rest of the room. He checked the angles, and there was no way that a sniper could shoot him through the window, and it was straight drop down to the ground. Nothing he couldn't jump—with marginal injuries—but it was unlikely that anyone would go through the hassle of scaling the house to get in. There were bound to be _easier_ ways in, after all.

A quick check around the edge of the window confirmed that it was hooked up to the house's security system, and that a silent alarm would most likely go off as soon as the window opened. Alex was tempted to try it—just to see what happened—but figured that k-unit was going to have enough reasons to want to kill him over the next few days. He didn't need to start things off on the wrong foot. Well... too much more on the wrong foot.

He fell onto the bed. He was _exhausted_. He had woken up in a cell in MI5, after having what he considered a _violent_ allergic reaction, in the middle of the night, and hadn't slept since then. The bed had been uncomfortable, his wrists had still been handcuffed together, and his head had been pounding something fierce. Not to mention, the moment he had remembered that he hadn't gotten his medicine, he had been almost too afraid to fall asleep. Afraid that something was going to cause a seizure.

Now though, he had a chance to sleep again. Undisturbed. Maybe it wouldn't be _too_ bad...

* * *

><p>"Alex, wake up." Someone shook him. "You need to eat <em>sometime<em>."

Alex pushed the hand away, and rolled over, his eyes still firmly shut. He had been in the midst of the most relaxing dream. "Don't care..."

"You will when you wake up starving at one in the morning." The incessant shaking continued. "Come on, you can't leave me to face all of them on my own, can you?"

"Huh?" He rolled over onto his back, finally opening his eyes and staring at the person hovering over him. With a start, he realized that the room didn't look right... Of course. Safe house. MI5. MI6. K-unit. Kleczka and Rosen actually being agents... "_Great..._"

Ben laughed. "Back in the world of the living, I see. You certainly threw Sebastian for a loop earlier. Micah too." _Sebastian and Micah...?_ Oh, Wolf and Eagle. "I think they were about ready to tear your door apart to get at you by the time I got here. Your things are in a bag at the end of the bed, by the way."

Alex sat up on the edge of his bed, and ran a tired hand through his hair. "Still tired."

"Yeah, stressful day. Just go to bed early, and you should be okay. Don't worry about the others; they shouldn't bother you too much."

_Too much_...

"I made them wait to go through your file until later, so they don't know you're _Alex_. They're suspicious, but they haven't figured anything out yet. I figured that their interrogation can wait until after you have a good night's sleep."

Alex smiled slightly. "Made them wait? I was under the impression that you couldn't really _make_ them do anything."

"I just... didn't give them your file. They have no choice. I'll have to give it to them eventually, but... a few hours won't hurt." Ben grinned at Alex, before going to the end of the bed and rummaging through one of the bags. "Since they don't know though, you should probably take your medicine where they won't ask a million questions. Blake will just see it as an opening to question you."

Alex sighed. "Yeah..." He took the medicine from Ben, and cast a glance around the room. He hadn't paid attention to the desk in the room before, but now it had a stack of textbooks on it, as well as his laptop. It was starting to look like someone actually lived in the room. "Any idea how long we're going to be here?"

"Who knows. A month, at the least. Probably longer. Until Mrs. Jones comes up with better protection, or Simurgh and SCORPIA redirect their interests. As is, I'm the one in the least amount of danger. I don't have Simurgh after me as well." Ben smirked, before heading toward the door. "You should come down if you expect there to be any food. Dmitri ordered carryout—so, not the greatest, but they'll eat just about anything." Ben left the room, but his words carried over his shoulder. "And it'll be gone if you don't hurry."

"I'll be down in a few minutes." He wasn't exactly looking forward to confronting the men again. Least of all his former _boss_. It unnerved him how thin a line he had been treading in just the first few weeks after he had run away. He should have noticed that they were _different_ from the normal criminals, but he had been too wrapped up in his own worries to even consider the possibility. In a way, _that_ was what had gotten him into the mess in the first place.

Braden and Mendelssohn had been actively looking for SCORPIA. They were trying to make contact with the group—probably with a plan to get an agent in their midst. And the end result not only had almost killed Alex, but had completely ruined their plans. They certainly had a reason to take a disliking to him...

Alex stared at the pills in his hand, before swallowing them dry and heading out of the room. Putting off the inevitable would only do one thing. Cut down on the amount of food he got.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There. Another of those chapters that I didn't actually start writing until Thursday evening. ****And look, I told you Kleczka and Rosen would be back! (Technically they've **_**been**_** back, but you didn't know it was **_**them**_** ^_^) Bravo to the few that g**ue**ssed right**!** ****And k-unit now has a bigger role too. They're clueless for the moment... but not for long.**

**Was the part with Mrs. Jones okay? I'm not sure if I've caught her canon personality (it's been a while since I read her part), but I figure any softness can be attributed to the fact that she has a soft spot for Alex, and has been thinking that he was **_**dead**_** for the past seven months. I mean, it __**is**__** a bit **of a s**hock.******  
><strong>

**I don't know if I'll be able to get a chapter out next Sunday, since my choir has practices every day for the next week and a half (and I mean **_**long, major**_** practices). Since it's almost summer, my posting may (or may not, it really depends) get rather sporadic. If not next Sunday, then definitely the one after that.**

**Thank you for all the reviews! And don't forget to review on your way out**!****

**S.B.L.**


	24. Two Steps Forward—One Step Back

**Disclaimer: **_I hereby notify all proper authorities that I have permission from no one to own Alex Rider._

_Yes, that means that this is not _mine.

_**Previously...**_

_"I'll be down in a few minutes." He wasn't exactly looking forward to confronting the men again. Least of all his former _boss._ It unnerved him how thin a line he had been treading in just the first few weeks after he had run away. He should have noticed that they were _different_ from the normal criminals, but he had been too wrapped up in his own worries to even consider the possibility. In a way, _that_ was what had gotten him into the mess in the first place._

_Braden and Mendelssohn had been actively looking for SCORPIA. They were trying to make contact with the group—probably with a plan to get an agent in their midst. And the end result not only had almost killed Alex, but had completely ruined their plans. They certainly had a reason to take a disliking to him..._

_Alex stared at the pills in his hand, before swallowing them dry and heading out of the room. Putting off the inevitable would only do one thing. Cut down on the amount of food he got._

**CHAPTER 24: Two Steps Forward—One Step Back**

* * *

><p>Alex had all but bolted the moment he had finished eating. Ben had sent him an apologetic look, but he couldn't do much more than that. The atmosphere had been more than tense as soon as Alex entered the room. K-unit had made it clear that they expected answers, sooner rather than later. Alex was just thankful that he had Ben on his side, or he probably would have just forgone eating, and stayed in his room until the next morning. If appearing even then...<p>

The others weren't exactly _hostile_, just wary. Unsure of how to actually treat him, and how much he actually knew. He was just a kid that was somehow mixed up in an MI6 mess. From their narrow-minded reactions, Alex doubted that anyone would even _think_ of Alec Pierre being Alex Rider. Unless Braden or Mendelssohn said something. Even then though, he doubted that they knew that _Alex Rider_ was the same person as _Cub_. Then again, there was no telling just how good they were at putting things together.

Of course, they were going to know _everything_ in just a matter of hours, so it really didn't make too much of a difference. Everyone was going to know his so carefully kept secret. There was no doubt in Alex's mind that the next morning was going to be interesting. At least he didn't have to be present for the _big reveal_.

Up in his room, he once again activated the brick in front of his door, assuming that it would—at the least—keep anyone from barging into his room. Sure, it was probably a security risk, but leaving it there for one more night wouldn't kill anyone. Not if MI6 had done their job right. For now, in case anyone got it into their head that Alex really _needed_ to be present—or they wanted to pester him with questions—he would be inaccessible. Unless Ben interfered of course...

Since there were still a few hours until sunset, Alex opened his laptop up, and pulled the stack of textbooks to the edge of the desk. He hadn't done as much studying in the past week, and the little he had, had been with a slightly frantic air. The few minutes he had spent studying in the park had been a complete farce, trying to throw the agents that he knew were trailing him, off target. It hadn't worked very well, and he had done nothing more than stare intently at the book, and scribble nonsense down...

Now though, he felt like he had all the time in the world and didn't have to worry about making plans for escape anymore. Maybe for once, he'd actually be able to spend time comprehending what he was learning, rather than just attempting to memorize it all.

He shifted the first textbook, and a stack of papers fell to the floor. Most had stayed inside the file, but a few had fallen out. Where had it come from...? It wasn't his that was for sure. Had Ben left it behind accidentally? Or on purpose?

_Alex—_

_I talked to Mrs. Jones, and got permission to give you these files. I figured that since everyone was going to get to read through your file, it was only fair if you knew about the rest of us. Mine's not in here, but then, you've already seen it. Yes, I know about you looking through my book. On more than one occasion... Don't worry about that though. I probably would have done the same, if an opportunity like that had appeared. Anyway, they're all here, so enjoy. Maybe you'll be able to understand those two you worked with better._

_Ben._

Alex examined the stack of textbooks again, this time taking note of the files that had been added. _Braden, Christopher. Cortez, Sebastian. Jensen, Micah. Makris, Dmitri. Mendelssohn, Nathanial. O'Donnell, Blake._ Six men that he only knew pieces about... and now he had a chance to learn a great deal _more_.

He grinned, gathered the stack of files together, shut his laptop again, and went to his bed. He moved a lamp from the corner next to the bed, so he'd actually have some light to see with, and then flopped down, and examined the files. All of them were labeled _'TOP SECRET'_ in bright red letters, leaving no doubt as to who _wasn't_ supposed to be reading the files.

They couldn't have made it more obvious that _normal_ people weren't supposed to read this file...

Flipping open the first one, he found a page quite like the one that had been in Ben's file. It had Braden's address'—one in Poplar and one in Cambridge—a couple of paragraphs on his family history—two younger sisters and parents that lived in Cambridge—his university degrees, and a brief outline of his career. All twelve years of it, in two different stints.

It was oddly fascinating. Braden had started at MI6 in 1995, just months after the death of the Riders, so obviously, he wouldn't have known _them_. The Simurgh incident was in 1997, and Braden had left in 2001. Then it jumped three years, to 2004, when Braden started working for MI6 again. And his career had been highly successful since then.

The next few pages detailed the early missions, from breaking open an arms trafficking group in India, to a deep cover in Colombia as part of a drug trafficking group. Just in the first year. From there, he—and his cousin—had been seconded to MI5, to help with the problem of Simurgh. A year and a half researching and working undercover, just to infiltrate the one group.

Alex skimmed through the details, not really wanting to know _everything_. There was no reason to, aside from morbid curiosity. And since he had no wish to have nightmares over someone else's memories, he read as little as possible about the irrelevant missions. That didn't stop him from getting the gist of Braden's job though.

_Long days and monotony._

If he hadn't been out in the field, then he was teaching new recruits, mentoring the ones that made it past the first few months of training, or researching threats. Though the report didn't always go into detail, each month that Braden had worked for MI6 was recorded in some shape or form. Either through monthly reports or in the detailed mission files.

It gave Alex just a bit of respect for the man.

Of course, the most interesting report was the one on Braden's last mission. _Operation Emerald Badger_. Alex couldn't help but smirk at the name, wondering if the name had come before or after the pub existed. Braden and Mendelssohn had both been seconded to MI5 for the duration of the mission, joining up with an MI5 agent named _Adam Mitchell_. With the only unexplained presence in the pub being _Grant_, Alex suspected that Mitchell had filled that role. And that the foreign workers had been just that... with the hope that someone coming in might just have the right connections.

By the time Alex had showed up at the pub, Braden and his group had been running the pub for eight months already. They had most definitely settled in by then and were used to the routine. Smaller busts with the active terrorist groups in the country had followed after every gun sale, though precautions had been taken so that no one would be able to trace their downfall back to the pub.

Probably if Simurgh hadn't ended up bombing the pub in the end—or if their cover hadn't been blown—the pub would have still been in operation. Maybe not with the same agents, but it had turned into a treasure trove of information for the country—not to mention that they actually made some money... Alex suspected that MI5 had taken the success from that one _experiment_, and was using it elsewhere as well. More businesses springing up around the country, all with the intent of tracking illegal purchases.

Of course, it wasn't like Braden's job had been easy over the years. He had had his cover blown by a careless partner three times and twice by a double agent. He had been sent into a war zone on more than one occasion, infiltrated drug cartels, imprisoned and tortured, and once, nearly got blown up by a nuclear reactor. They actually had a few things in common...

The last of the light had long since faded outside, and Alex was surprised to see that it was already past eight. He had spent more time going through the one file than he had thought... it was clear that there was no way he was going to get through _all_ the files in one sitting. If even in a few days.

Alex stacked the files up again, this time placing Braden's at the bottom. He searched through the desk, looking for a suitable hiding place, and in the process found a large rubber band to hold the files together. After a few more minutes of thumping through the desk, he found what he was looking for. The back of one of the drawers sounded hollow, and he found the barest of depression in the bottom. Pushing on it, a small hook slid out, which he used to pull free the false backing. It opened into the depths of the desk, where it looked like there _should_ be part of the drawer, but wasn't. The drawer itself locked with a key that Alex had found in the bottom of a different drawer.

He slid the files into the empty space, and then sifted through the other things that Ben had brought him. His envelope full of passports, ID cards, and money, quickly joined the files, as did the most recent paperwork he had gotten to escape to Switzerland. The passports were still with the forger, but he had up to a year to pick them up. After making sure that he had everything he wanted in the hiding spot, he placed the backing in place, twisted the hook and pressed it in, made sure the depression was back to normal, slid the drawer shut, and locked it.

_Safe._

There was no way that anyone could get to it unless they had the key. After taking a detailed picture of both sides of the key with the iPod—just in case he managed to lose the key, and wanted a replacement made—he lifted up the frame of the bed, and slid the key underneath one of the legs. No one would find it.

Alex grinned. Maybe he was being just a _little bit_ paranoid, but then again, he was staying in a house full of spies and SAS men... Paranoia seemed to be just the thing he needed.

* * *

><p>It was late.<p>

Alex wasn't even sure how he had managed to sleep in so late. Normally, he woke up at least an hour before Ben showed any signs of moving and waited until he heard the shower running—sometime between five thirty and six. It was an odd thing to wake up hours after the sun had risen, and to hear birds singing outside his window... there hadn't been any birds near the flat. Nor windows, really.

The house was surprisingly quiet, for the number of people currently residing in it, and Alex suspected that he was the last one to get up. It was rather hard to imagine any of the SAS men sleeping in when the sun was shining... Of course, there was always the possibility that they had shifts so that someone would always be alert. In fact, it would make more sense that way. So there were definitely other people sleeping. Just, they had been up all night.

Not envying them their job, Alex pulled himself out of bed and started rummaging through the duffle bag of stuff that Ben had brought from the flat. All his medicines were in a smaller bag, and he quickly pulled out the ones he needed in the morning. He had long since passed the point where Ben needed to remind him in the morning, and it was almost second nature to automatically look for the medicine. It wasn't a dependence on the medicine—he shuddered to think of it that way—but he couldn't help but fear what would happen if he stopped taking it. Life would... take an extreme turn for the worse.

After finding and pulling on a clean sweatshirt, Alex glanced around the room to see if he had forgotten anything. His glasses were sitting on the desk, per usual, but there wasn't a need for them anymore. He was _Alex Rider_ again, even if he didn't look exactly the same as his normal self. Unless he went out as Alec Pierre, he wouldn't have to wear the glasses again.

Of course, if Ben arranged an appointment somewhere in the future, Alec Pierre wasn't dead to the world in the slightest. And he wouldn't put it past Ben to arrange _something_. At the very least, he needed to continue the physical therapy. He had no wish to let all his hard work go to waste just because he was trapped in a house to keep him safe from homicidal lunatics that wanted him dead.

He tucked his medicine into his pocket, and removed the brick from in front of his door. He wasn't sure if anyone had actually _tried_ to come in, but he had a feeling that they wouldn't appreciate it if he used it regularly. A potential risk, after all. Alex pushed it up against the wall, and then peered out into the hall. It was clear of people for the moment, and a glance into the room next to Alex's, told him that he was still alone. The bag in the room was familiar, as was the only book sitting on the desk. Definitely Ben's room.

He hadn't taken time to explore the house yet, so he only knew where the bare necessities were. Namely, his room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. Now he knew where to find Ben... some of the time. He'd have to look into the other rooms later. For now, he wanted something to eat.

The house was completely silent as he made his way down the stairs, but he found his first person for the morning. Not that said person was awake... Dmitri was asleep on the couch, looking like he had just fallen asleep while watching the television. It was turned onto mute, and the captions scrolled across the screen, almost faster than Alex could read them. Still, it seemed that the only thing the news was reporting on was irrelevant to life in general. It seemed to be the trend lately...

Suppressing a snort, Alex left Dmitri to his slumber, and headed toward the kitchen, intent on finding food. Like the rest of the house seemed to be, the kitchen was empty, aside from the few dishes in the sink. Obviously, _someone_ had been there earlier, and hadn't bothered to clean up after themselves.

_Typical_.

Alex searched through the cupboards looking for tea and cereal. Though he was technically allowed to use the stove again—after all, he had passed the two month mark without a seizure—he didn't feel like putting in the effort. Maybe another day when it wasn't actually so _late_...

"I was wondering if you were ever going to show your face down here." The voice startled Alex, and he spun around to find Ben coming into the room. The man sat down at the table, and watched Alex with an amused smirk. "Wasn't sure if you had planned to hide up there until someone dragged you down, or not."

Alex shrugged. "Slept in."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's a first in... how many months?"

"A lot."

"Hmm. Tea's in the cupboard over the sink, if that's what you're looking for."

Alex opened the cupboard, and pulled down the tea, before hunting through the other cupboards and finding the cereal, a bowl, and the pot for heating water. It was strange to be in a full sized kitchen again. No more careful turns, so as not to accidentally knock something over. He cast a glance over his shoulder toward Ben. "So... where is everybody?"

"I'm sure you saw Dmitri. He and Micah—Eagle—had the night shift. Micah managed to make it to his bed before falling asleep, unlike Dmitri." Ben nodded toward the door he had just come in. "The others are outside. Sebastian's checking the perimeter, Blake's catching up on his reading, and Braden and Mendelssohn are both writing lesson plans for future trainees. I'm sure I'll be given the same task eventually."

Alex sat down at the table, and poured a bowl of cereal and milk for himself. "Lesson plans?"

"Yep. Like, training scenarios. Sometime's they'll be based off of real missions, other times... they come from the highly creative minds of bored agents. Those tend to be worse than _real scenarios_. Er... most of the time." He added hastily, seeing Alex's disbelieving look. "I honestly think your missions were worse than most _normal_ missions."

Alex scowled slightly at his bowl. He hadn't wanted to be reminded of _that_. Not only did the others know _who_ he was, but they knew everything else as well. They knew everything that had happened, to him, because of him... _He's proven he's not above killing_. Did Braden still think harshly of him? Still blame him for something that he—according to Ben—had no control over?

Were the others avoiding him now, because they couldn't understand why MI6 could want a _person like him_ protected, when he was just as bad as the criminals? If not worse... Did they suspect him? Did they think he might be giving information to the other side? Would they treat him like a prisoner...?

Ben set a steaming cup down on the table in front of Alex, and hit him in the back of the head. "Stop thinking like that."

Alex glared at him. "Like what?"

Ben frowned at him. "Like you're not worth anything. I've told you, time and again, that everything that has happened in your past _wasn't your fault_, and people aren't going to blame you for it. Even Braden understood once he got the whole story. It wasn't like you purposefully ousted them to SCORPIA. It was just bad luck and timing."

"And the rest?"

"The rest what?"

Alex stared at the table, fiddling with the handle of the cup. "What do they... think? Do they... do they know about the last few months? About Rezaei and Ross?"

"I didn't tell them much more than was in your file." Ben said. "Braden filled them in on Rezaei, and I explained some of what I knew about the MI5 and Simurgh meeting. If anything, I think they were still trying to relate _Cub_ with you."

"They know... _everything_? Y-you do?" He had only ever gone into detail in the _recent_ history. From the months before... he had kept quiet. He hadn't really wanted to think about it at the time. Ben had had only an inkling of an idea of why SCORPIA was after him.

"Yeah. I think everyone was a little horrified and shocked by what MI6 put you through."

Alex shuddered. Of course they were.

Ben put a hand on Alex's shoulder. "Don't worry about the past. It happened, it was bad, but you made it. You pulled through. The others aren't going to reject you for what you did to survive. For what you did to help other people. And I've got their word that they won't ask you any questions. Not until you're ready. Which, I guess, is probably _never_ as far as they're concerned..."

A hint of a smile crossed Alex's face. "Thanks."

Ben shrugged in an unconcerned manner, and went to get his own cup of tea. The kitchen grew silent, and if Alex listened hard, he could almost hear the sound of someone arguing outside. The _others_, most likely. Could it be that they were leaving Alex and Ben alone on purpose? So that he wasn't overwhelmed by them all?

"So... I know this whole safe house thing makes things rather complicated, but you need to keep up on your PT."

Alex snorted. "You think?"

Ben rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. I think once MI6 gets my report on the last few months, they'll start assigning people to take over your care—as far as doctors go, that is."

Alex sighed. "They're not going to give me another _psychologist_ are they?"

"They might try, but I might be able to work something out. As long as you _are_ dealing with it, and not just repressing the memories or whatever potentially destructive thoughts get into your head." Ben looked serious for a moment. "If you start doing that, I won't hesitate to drag you to see someone. You know as well as I do what kind of problems it'll make."

Alex nodded, mentally cringing away from even the threat of seeing another psychologist. Though it had been months now, he could still remember with clarity the times that a psychologist had tried to pin a diagnosis on him. The number of times that they had tried giving him medicine that just seemed to make everything worse than it really was. It offered nothing but horrible memories.

He finished off his cereal, washed his dishes, and headed back toward the stairs.

"Going to study?" Ben asked.

"Yeah... thanks for the files, by the way. Rather... enlightening."

Ben grinned. "I thought they would be. You know, you can always come and study outside if you want. Rain's gone, for now."

"Maybe tomorrow."

Ben nodded, and headed out the back door again, while Alex headed upstairs. It was so odd to be in a normal house again. But then, maybe, it was just the next step toward transitioning to normal. Whatever _normal_ was going to be when everything was over...

* * *

><p><em>Explain why some major powers did not join the League of Nations.<em> Alex scratched his head, before flicking through the pages of his textbook. _The US Senate voted against it... Germany was a defeated country, and had to prove themselves... The USSR was communist and wasn't allowed to join... _Gah.

A knock on the door pulled Alex out of the drudgery of writing the nearly pointless essay—after all, _who_ was actually going to read or grade it? The door was open, so knocking was rather pointless, and it took him a moment to figure out that whoever was there, _wasn't_ Ben, and didn't really want to disturb him...

Alex glanced up quickly, surprised at how lax he had become. Braden was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching Alex with a hesitant smile. His former boss seemed less formidable than he had at the pub, and Alex found himself wondering if that was—once again—because he was technically _off duty_. A different person entirely. Of course, he _had_ been working under an alias... so a different personality might actually be the truth.

"You really are studying. Wasn't sure if I should believe Daniels or not." Braden sounded amused. "A friend used to tell me that the moment a teenager willingly studied, the world was ending. Obviously, that isn't the case."

Alex snorted, and glanced back down at the books. He both liked and hated the studying. It not only gave him something to do, but made him feel like he was one upping everything that had gone against him in the past two years. Maybe when he could safely _exist_ again, he'd be able to do something with his life. That had been Ben's intent the whole time, anyway...

"GCSE's, right?"

"Sort of..."

"Sort of?"

"I haven't been in school regularly since I turned fourteen." Alex shrugged. "It's hard to keep up with everything. Before January, I hadn't done anything remotely school related since July."

"Ahh..." He shifted slightly, and Alex just knew that the man wanted to say something. Something unrelated to their slightly awkward small talk. "So... I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. It wasn't exactly what you would call... _professional behavior_ and I'd like to fix that."

Alex raised an eyebrow. _An apology?_ That was certainly unexpected.

He walked over toward Alex, and stuck his hand out. "Christopher Braden, but you already know that."

Alex shook the hand hesitantly. "Alex Rider."

Braden grinned at him. "Alex, huh? So I guess you'll be going back to that, instead of _Alec_ then?"

"Yeah."

"I still can't believe you tricked us for so long. Though it is a relief to find that I wasn't so far off in my first character judgment. One of the reasons we let you stick around was because your record came back without any marks, and you seemed like an all around good kid. None of us wanted to believe that you turned on us, but everything was pointing toward it. Especially when the pub blew."

"How'd that happen anyway?"

"The mission had already been pulled by then, and we were all in protective custody, but MI5 needed someone familiar with the place to scope one of the neighboring buildings. There were some suspicious activities, and since Mitchell—Grant, the cook—was still in the hospital, I volunteered. SCORPIA had set a trap, for any agent that came through, and we—myself and the SAS team, though Daniels somehow wound up there as well—barely made it before the bomb exploded." Braden shrugged slightly, before turning back toward the door. "It was an eventful day, to say the least."

Alex smirked. Ben's hectic day. It had been an all around _horrible_ day as far as Alex was concerned, but hearing the mildly humorous story from Ben had lifted his spirits. Not that Ben had mentioned that it was _the pub_ that had exploded. It had just been a building. A regular, normal, building...

"You know, I've worked with k-unit a number of times over the past few months, and well, last night I heard a little about your... rough first meeting with them. But you've got to understand, they don't always act like bastards. Sebastian might have a few rough edges—and he was a right bastard the first time I met him—but once he warms up to someone, they've got a good man watching their back. And he looks after his own, even when they abandon him for the '_atrocities of MI6_' as he so eloquently put it."

"I was never one of them." Alex bit his lip as soon as he said it, wondering just what had possessed him to _willingly_ bring something up to Braden, of all people. Besides, he had only been at Brecon Beacons for ten days. Bonding or no, that wasn't long enough to consider him _a part of them_. Of course he had spent even less time with SCORPIA...

"You were, but you weren't. Unofficial member, but a member all the same." He sent Alex a strange glance. "Did you actually _read_ your file, or just skim it?"

Alex shrugged. He hadn't paid too close of attention to the details, not really wanting to remember all the horrors in vivid detail. He had skimmed enough to know that there was plenty in there that he would have rather had _no one_ ever know. Especially the parts pertaining to SCORPIA and the Cairo mission.

Braden chuckled. "Of course you skimmed. I don't blame you... but you're still listed as a part of k-unit. At least, _Cub_ was still listed." The man shrugged slightly. "I think if you give them a chance, you'll find that they're not bastards. Daniels turned out all right, didn't he? Once you gave him a chance?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Ben put you up to this didn't he?"

Braden grinned. "Nope, but I'll admit it took some prodding from Mendelssohn. After all, _he_ wasn't the one that held a gun on you yesterday—for too long, that is."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Of course."

Braden finally edged out of the room. "Have fun with your studying. I don't envy you the task at all."

Alex was tempted to glare at the man, but he was already out of sight. With a sigh, Alex put his head down on the desk and just _thought_. He both knew, and didn't know, Braden. And it was a strange feeling. Every now and then, an action would remind him of Kleczka, but then Braden would do something that clashed terribly with the personality he had first known. Laughing, for one thing...

It was certainly true that people acted different when they were on and off missions. On-mission, they would act whatever way the person they were portraying acted, while adding a few of the own irremovable quirks at the same time. The fidgety gesture Braden made with his wrist when he was truly interested in something, or the way that Ben always looked over his shoulder whenever they reached a crossroad. No matter what.

Maybe k-unit was the same, to a different extent. For their job, they needed to be tough and unmovable, just to pass training. Weakness was a sure sign to get binned. But from what he had seen in Ben's flat, so many weeks ago, was that they were actually _human beings_. They even took time to tease each other...

He was still wary, but... there was always the possibility that people could change. Ben had turned out alright, after all...

* * *

><p>It was early afternoon by the time Ben showed up again, and this time it was to drag Alex downstairs to help him cook. Neither of them had really enjoyed the pathetic excuse for a meal the night before, and it sounded like k-unit had roped Ben into fixing some real food. In turn, it meant that Alex got pulled in as well...<p>

Ben had, of course, teased him about the fact that Alex could do _all_ the cooking, now that he didn't have to worry about doctor's orders. There were no restrictions, aside from the ones placed on him by the physical therapist. Even those amounted to very few—no running for too long, careful about pivoting, and no sports. Not that he was going to play sports anywhere... with the nearest _playmates_ being almost twice his age—and size—it just wasn't a good idea, no matter if he was recovering or not.

The first few times that someone other than Ben had come into the kitchen, Alex couldn't help but tense, just waiting for the inevitable questions. The worst that he got though were a few odd glances his way from Eagle, and a speculative gaze from Snake—which Ben later interpreted as Snake trying to figure out if Alex really was _okay_.

Wolf hadn't shown up at all, and Alex suspected that the man was just avoiding him. Dmitri had risen from the couch sometime during the day, and just before Alex and Ben had set the soup to boil, he showed up in the kitchen, grabbed some coffee, and disappeared to wherever his fellow unit mates were hiding.

"You know, each time someone walks in here, it's like they're waiting for you to bite their head off. While at the same time, you're waiting for them to bite _yours_ off." Ben shook his head mockingly. "I think we should just shove the five of you into a room, and let you figure it out. I heard you've already got Braden on your side."

Alex shrugged. "It was a rather odd conversation... and I'm just waiting for them to start asking questions."

"They're not going to." He tossed a loaf of bread at Alex. "I made it clear what I would do to them if they questioned you. Now, you know how to make garlic bread?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Since I was six."

"Good. You do that, and I'll see what else we can rustle up."

By the time the food was finished, Alex was more than ready to eat. His lunch had been skimpy, mainly because he couldn't be bothered to spend time making something, and he was starving. A glance from Ben sent him back upstairs to get his medicine. By the time he was back down, the table was set, and the others were sitting down to what looked like a normal meal—if it weren't for the odd bunch that they were.

Alex slid into a spot that had him next to Ben and Dmitri—the one unknown quantity in the room—and across from Snake. Snake's gaze faltered for a moment as Alex swallowed down his pills, making Alex wonder if the others knew about his seizures or not. It would seem a rather odd thing for Ben not to mention, but then, maybe he had just said something vague. Or, it was quite possible that it hadn't occurred to them that having a permanent problem meant permanent medicine...

Whatever the case, Alex brushed off the unease he felt, and met Snake's half stare, with an amused smirk. He was going to take Braden's advice and give the unit a chance. Give the individuals themselves a chance. He would feel much better about the whole protection thing if he actually trusted the people that were supposed to be watching out for him. Not that he was just going to trust them blindly. They needed to prove themselves first...

Snake seemed surprised for a moment, before turning to Eagle and striking up a conversation. Ben nudged Alex in the side, prompting him to get something to eat.

It was only day one, after all. No one expected them to be best friends immediately. For now, civility would have to make due...

* * *

><p>"<em>You thought you'd get out of this? Get away with it? You're nothing but a lying brat." Rough hands pushed and pulled him, shoving him onto a chair. Before he could so much as make a sound, cold metal had wrapped around his wrists, keeping his arms firmly behind his back. He couldn't get away, even if he hadn't already been petrified with fear.<em>

"_Ben's been lying to you. He's trying to make you feel safe. But you're not." The voice was indistinct, and before Alex could get a glimpse of the face, his surroundings were plunged into darkness and silence. No matter how many times he blinked, he couldn't make out a single feature of the room he was in. _If_ he was even in a room._

_A tingling sensation ran up his arm, and he tried to shake it off. His hands were still locked tightly, and he could barely move. Something dug into his leg, a painful and deep feeling, but there was still nothing there. No sound or sight that he could detect. He tried to scream, but although he opened his mouth, no sound came out_

_Trapped._

"_Not so brave now, are you, Alex?"_

_Alex wanted to scream. It sounded like the voice was _inside_ his head._

_The voice laughed. "You're just a _little boy_ that uses others lives to keep himself alive. You never once thought about what killing Rezaei would do to Kleczka and Rosen. Never once thought about the danger you might put _them_ into because of _you_. Grant was in the _hospital_. Because of _you_."_

_The voice disappeared as quickly as it came, and there was resounding silence once more. The stabbing pain in his leg increased until Alex was nearly to the point of tears. He shook his head violently, refusing to believe the voice_

_It wasn't his fault._

_Ben had tried drilling it into him. Not his fault. Not his fault. Not his fault!_

"_But it is..." The pain started to spread from his leg. "You could have gotten them _killed_. Or tortured."_

_N-not his fault. Not h-his fa-fault. N-not..._

"_Your fault." The voice nearly yelled at him. "Did you even _think_ when you killed Ross? Simurgh would have gone after Levendis, if they hadn't realized it was _you_. He would have been dead. Your fault."_

_No... please..._

_The pain spread, until he felt like his chest was gripped in a vice. His breathing stuttered, and he tried to scream again. Anything to get him out of the maddening silence. No sound._

"_They're lying to you. They blame you. It's your fault that they're here in the first place. They'd be safe and with _their families_ if it weren't for _you_." The pressure increased. "They blame you."_

_No... please... I'm... I'm _sorry_._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: *runs and hides* Yes, I enjoy torturing Alex with his own mind. I'm surprised you haven't figured that out already... So we have the two steps forward (Alex learning and accepting Braden, and hesitantly giving k-unit a chance, without immediately shunning them), and then the step backward (the return of his nightmares). Muhaha... Things will hopefully be picking up in the next chapter, but I'm not promising any action for a while—two or three chapters at the least.**

**What do you guys think about having a different POV (not Ben or Alex) in an upcoming chapter? It would probably only come up for the one chapter, but I'm not sure if I should just stick with the two that I already have, and not risk confusion... I'd make it pretty obvious, but... yeah...**

**Next Sunday will be my last regularly scheduled update, because I will be going on my "class" trip with my brother out into the great unknown. No, seriously. I'll have internet here and there, but for the most part, for the next month I'll be camping. It will be fun, but unfortunately for you guys, that means little to no updates (heck, I don't even know if I'm allowed to take my laptop or not). I might be able to get out two updates before I leave, but I'm not making any promises.**

**Your reviews are absolutely lovelyful and I look forward each day to opening my inbox in hopes that there are more waiting for me. Thanks also goes out to all of you who have put this on alert or favorites as well! (If you're a writer, I'm sure you understand about having an audience!) **

**S.B.L.**

**P.S. Did you guys notice there's a cover now?  
><strong>


	25. All Alone

**Disclaimer:**_*casts _Imperio_ on Anthony Horowitz* Starry Bright Light owns Alex Rider._

_Whoops, wrong book series._

_Guess that doesn't work._

_*sigh*_

_Not mine._

**_Previously..._**

"_Your fault." The voice nearly yelled at him. "Did you even _think_ when you killed Ross? Simurgh would have gone after Levendis, if they hadn't realized it was _you_. He would have been dead. Your fault."_

_No... please..._

_The pain spread, until he felt like his chest was gripped in a vice. His breathing stuttered, and he tried to scream again. Anything to get him out of the maddening silence. No sound._

"_They're lying to you. They blame you. It's your fault that they're here in the first place. They'd be safe and with _their families_ if it weren't for _you_." The pressure increased. "They blame you."_

_No... please... I'm... I'm _sorry_._

**CHAPTER 25: All Alone**

* * *

><p>Alex caught the scream when it was halfway out of his throat. But it was already too late. Someone had already heard him. An unfamiliar someone. As soon as he noticed the other person—one that was most definitely <em>not<em> Ben—he scrambled away as best as he could. The glint of metal from a gun pushed him even further over the edge, and he all but jumped over the end of his bed, trying to put as much space between himself and the stranger.

The door to the room swung open again, and this time Ben showed up, looking half awake and slightly alarmed. He took a few hesitant steps toward Alex, but Alex pulled away.

"Alex... it's okay. Calm down..." Ben raised a soothing hand in Alex's direction, while discreetly waving the other person out of the room. "We're in the house. It's the middle of the night. Life as usual, yeah?"

Alex nodded shakily, before leaning back against the wall and sliding down to the floor. It took him a moment to realize he was shaking. Not from the cold. Just from the _fear_. Not the fear really of finding someone else in his room—if he thought about it, it was actually somewhat reasonable to expect—but the fear from his nightmare. The icy tendrils of fear that worked themselves into his mind... and the doubts about the safety and security of the people around him. _Could_ he have done something differently? Was it _really_ his fault?

"You're safe here, Alex."

A slightly hysterical laugh built up. _Safe?_ There was no _safe_ anymore... not with the nightmares invading his mind.

Ben edged his way closer, until he was sitting down next to Alex. "Dmitri was just worried about you. Heard you having a nightmare, and he was afraid it was something else. They're just trying to keep you safe."

Alex pressed his forehead to his knees. He felt completely humiliated. It was only his second night in the house, and one of the secrets he had kept from Ben for weeks was already out...

Ben put an arm around Alex's shoulder. "You're safe here, got that? You've just got to relax. Trust me."

Alex nodded again, before leaning his head against Ben's shoulder. He was exhausted still, and it was who knows what time of night. "What... time is it?" He cleared his throat, trying to put some more life into it.

"Just after three."

"Oh..." It was later than he had suspected. He closed his eyes, wondering if it was possible to fall back asleep, but the moment he did, the sightless terror of his nightmare returned. His eyes were wide open in a moment, as he desperately looked for something else to concentrate on.

"You look exhausted Alex. Are you going to go back to bed?"

Alex's eyes darted around the room, before he shook his head. It wasn't going to happen. At least, not now.

Ben sighed, removed his arm from around Alex, and stood up. "We'll go get some tea then." He extended a hand toward Alex, to help him up. "Then we can talk about sleeping."

Alex's eyes widened slightly, as he realized that Ben was convinced he was going to go back to sleep eventually. "It... it's only three more hours. Till I usually get up..."

Ben smiled slightly. "Three hours can make a lot of difference."

"Don't care..." Alex rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. After going without nightmares—especially _detailed_ nightmares—for so long, it had pulled him into a false sense of security. Into believing that he didn't have to worry about it anymore. It wasn't even a memory in the first place. Just something his mind had created to torment him with.

"You will in a few days." Ben ran a tired hand through his hair. "Come on, then." Ben took a hold of his elbow, and nudged him out of the room and down the darkened hall. It was the middle of the night, and obviously everyone—that could be, at least—was asleep. There was a lamp on in the living room, and it seemed that Dmitri had drifted down there after leaving the room. Alex stared at the carpet and the odd shadows cast from the lamp, instead of making eye contact, while Ben murmured a few words to Dmitri.

He both wanted to go back to bed, and wanted to stay up the rest of the night. There was no doubt that the night would end with him taking the medicine to help him sleep, but he didn't _want it_. His nightmare unnerved him to the extent that he wanted to tear it apart, bit by bit. He didn't want to sleep, especially a _forced_ sleep.

Unfortunately, even though he was awake, his mind was starting to play off of the doubts that had been seated in his mind. They had already been there, deep in the recesses of his mind, just waiting for a moment of calm to make them known in the most violent way possible.

Ben pushed him toward a chair, and went about the strange routine that the two of them had put together. Ben would start the water heating, retrieve cups from the cupboard, and for the most part, ignore Alex. Alex, in turn, would watch Ben like he was the most fascinating thing on earth, instead of dwelling on whatever the nightmares had brought up.

The routine didn't take very long, and before Alex knew it, a steaming cup of tea was in front of him, and Ben was watching him closely. Waiting for Alex to make the first move. He always did. _Eventually_...

After nearly ten minutes, Alex broke under the pressure. He could stand up against maniacs trying to rule the world, but couldn't last the silence between him and Ben for more than a few minutes. The amount of time he could last had steadily been getting shorter and shorter, as he came to trust Ben easier.

Even now though, he went about explaining in the vaguest way possible. "I don't know why."

Ben raised an eyebrow, and slowly took a sip from his own cup of tea. "Why, what?"

"The... nightmare." Alex stared at the table instead of meeting Ben's eyes. "I don't know why. It was... different. N-not a memory or anything like that."

"But it still affected you pretty badly."

Alex nodded.

"Is it like the nightmares you had while Luke was around? The ones that you just couldn't figure out what they were? This one seemed worse than those must've been..."

"N-no. Those were... _different_." Those had only left him with a vague sense of unease. These left him feeling totally unprotected—and responsible for the reason there were others with him in the safe house. "This was... was _accusing_." He shuddered, not wanting to think how helpless he had felt. It had _only_ been a nightmare though. It shouldn't have been so horrible.

He glared at the table again, and shoved the thoughts out of his head. He didn't want to think about it. So maybe he had had some kind of hand in why Braden and Mendelssohn were there—and Ben too, if he looked back far enough—but... was he... was he _selfish_ because he hadn't let Rezaei do what he wanted with him? Was he _selfish_ because he had killed twice to save his own life?

"Alex... don't do this." Ben seemed to know exactly what Alex was doing. Pushing the thoughts, the doubts away. Ignoring them.

"I... don't." Alex gripped the cup with renewed force. "Don't want to talk about it."

"You're going to make things worse for yourself." Ben warned. "If it's something that's really bothering you... You know as well as I do that the nightmares aren't going to go away on their own."

"Don't... want to." To his shame, he felt like he was on the verge of tears. Just _thinking_ about the nightmare, just _thinking_ of talking to Ben about them, scared him. Scared that Ben was going to reject him, once the man started to see the ways that Alex had interfered with others lives... how he had ruined them all.

Ben put a hand on his arm. "Alex? I'm just asking you to _try_ to rationalize whatever was in the nightmare. So, it wasn't a memory. It was something else, probably triggered by our situation here. You've got to work through it though, or you're just going to keep having problems. And you can only take the sleeping pills for so long."

Alex closed his eyes. "Not here... not now. _Please_."

"Okay." Ben stood up from the table, and cleared it of their cups. Alex continued staring at the table in front of him, not wanting to know what came next. He _didn't want_ to go back to bed, or take the inevitable medicine. Ben would want him to sleep though... "Come on, Alex. It's late, and you need to sleep."

Almost like a child, he blindly followed Ben back up the stairs, took his medicine, and crawled back into bed. Ben pointedly left the door slightly open, making it clear that if anything else happened that night, he was next door. Alex wasn't sure if he should be comforted or disturbed by that fact...

For the longest time, he stared at the wall, tracing the nearly invisible patterns on it. He didn't want to sleep. He was afraid of the nightmares. He was sure he had never felt younger in his life. Like a small child cowering because of the scary monster under his bed. But this time, the monster was his mind.

A petrifying thought. Something that Alex had both some control over and none at all. At the mercy of his own mind. Helpless and completely afraid.

* * *

><p>The past five days had been absolutely miserable for Alex. Since the first nightmare, they had just been getting progressively worse and worse. Ben was obviously feeling the strain of the late nights as well, because it only took Alex glancing at the man to notice the dark shadows that had popped up.<p>

Dmitri hadn't said anything about the reaction, and he certainly didn't act any different toward Alex since then... The others in the household seemed to have decided to just not mention what they were bound to know was happening as well. Alex highly doubted that anyone had slept through the night that he had woken up screaming, when Ben's attempts at waking him up had resulted into feeding directly into the nightmare. Ben had been more cautious ever since, but just the memory itself unnerved Alex. He had never had the nightmares influence him that greatly.

With the nightmares plaguing his nighttime sleep, Alex had been taking the sleeping pills more often, and catching up on the lost sleep during the day. Most often, curled up in a chair on the porch behind the house. It was as close as he could get to being outdoors without having a personal bodyguard. Even then though, his sleep hadn't been undisturbed, and Ben had woken him up more than once just before the dreams turned violent.

The only good thing that came out of it all—at least, that Alex could see—was the knowledge that k-unit and the others wouldn't pry. In the almost week they had been living together, no one had so much as asked him a question about his past, and he was pretty sure that that hesitancy stemmed from the fact that he was having nightmares. There were practically no secrets in the house.

And with practically no secrets, Alex wasn't all that surprised to find Ben waiting for him in the morning when he woke up. It had been another late night, with the nightmare coming at just around midnight. Ben had, of course, spent the next hour or so with Alex in the kitchen drinking tea, and successfully getting no answers out of him.

It had been almost an entire week.

Drastic measures were going to be taken.

The door was shut, blocking them off from any outside disturbances and Alex had sleepily admitted to himself that this was what Ben considered _drastic measures_. So far. He had never _forced_ Alex to do anything, but he had certainly prodded relentlessly before.

"I don't know if you remember, but I'm supposed to turn in my report on what you've been up to the past few months, later today." Ben sat down on the edge of the bed. "You promised me last week that you weren't going to lock things away. And I warned you then, that if you did, I wouldn't hesitate to get you some kind of help."

Alex's eyes widened, and he pulled away from Ben. He hadn't done something, had he?

Ben shook his head slightly. "I haven't done anything, _yet_. I don't want you to get hurt though. You're hurting yourself more by trying to ignore... _this_. All the progress that you've made over the past few months is going to go down the drain if you keep this up. You'll be right back where you started in January."

Alex shook his head stubbornly. He _knew_ what Ben meant. If he let the nightmares continue plaguing him, he was eventually going to come to a point where he _couldn't_ take the sleeping pills anymore, and then... it would just be a matter of days, of sleepless nights, before another seizure came. Just a matter of days before he was required to be reliant on others once more. He would have _no hope_ of being independent.

"You're letting it win, Alex. Trying to ignore this is the same as giving up before you've even tried."

"I-I'm not... ignoring..."

"Yeah, you are." Ben's frown was obvious. "It's been a week, and you know as well as I do that you can't last too much longer with your crazy sleep schedule. The stress of the nightmares alone might cause a seizure—and I _know_ that's the last thing _you_ want."

Alex stared at the floor, before pulling the blankets up around himself. Ben just didn't understand. It wasn't something he could just _talk_ about. It hurt to even _think_ about it and the constant reminder of the nightmares whenever he saw the people around him made it even worse. People that he barely knew had already been pulling into tormenting him in his mind. The only one that hadn't shown up yet was Ben...

"Alex, listen to me. You've been able to talk to me before—in more detail than I could ever expect to find in some report—and you've been able to bounce back. Right now you're letting something that your mind _created,_ dictate how you're living your life..." Ben sighed, frustration clear in his voice. "I understand that talking before wasn't easy, but you've got to open up some. Bottling things up is just going to make things worse in the long run."

He always seemed to come back to the consequences... Alex clenched his jaw, not wanting to think about the _consequences_. But he... he just couldn't...

"You trusted me before, Alex. Why not now? It's just you and me here, and anything that happens here, won't be repeated elsewhere."

Alex found himself nodding slowly. "I..." He trailed off, pulling the blankets even closer. Ben was going to see the truth; he was going to blame him as well... "_My fault..._"

Ben let out a long sigh. "Alex... you're going to have to be a little more specific than that."

"It's... _my fault_ you're all stuck here. B-Braden and Mendelssohn would be... _safe_. And k-k-unit wouldn't be stuck here either." He shuddered slightly. "I-if I hadn't... _killed_ Rezaei, they wouldn't be in this mess... and I wouldn't be here either. Y-you'd be safe in your flat. I m-mess everything up."

A hand rubbed his back for a few moments, before pulling him into a half-hug. "It's always the same problems with you, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question, just Ben musing to himself. "Alex, listen to me—and listen well, because I _know_ this won't get through the first time, and most certainly not the second, third, or forth time either." He tilted Alex's head so that he was staring directly into his eyes. "It's. Not. Your. Fault. You have to stop trying to blame yourself for things you have absolutely no control over. You didn't _ask_ for Rezaei to threaten you. You didn't _ask_ for your boss to be an undercover agent. You most certainly didn't _ask_ for me to help you in December. We're all linked together in a strange way, and right now, that strange way is affecting us in an unusual manner."

"But... they'd be safe... If I hadn't been so... foolhardy, they wouldn't have been in danger—"

"Stop."

Alex froze, surprised by the force in Ben's voice.

"I'll say this once; I'll say it a million times. _Stop. Blaming. Yourself._ Every time you try to take all the blame, you're insulting the rest of us." Ben smiled slightly, to take the edge off the words. "We're all perfectly capable to making our own decisions, and so far, they've all had something to do with you. Braden knew what a risk it was taking you on as _Alec Pierre_, but he prides himself on being an excellent judge of character. He saw something in _you_, and decided you were worth the risks. And I don't care if that was you being someone you're not. _I_ made my decision a long time ago. K-unit... they were chosen for protection duty because of their marginal amount of contact with you. They already knew you, and while they didn't _choose_ per say, they did have some say in the matter. The mortality rate here is much lower than being in the midst of it with MI6. Just by being here they're more _protected_."

Alex tried to pull away. "No... They shouldn't have to worry... in the first place."

"You shouldn't either."

Alex closed his eyes, refusing to meet Ben's stare anymore.

"If anyone's to blame, it's MI6 and Blunt, for dragging you into this mess. Every time you have a nightmare about this, it shows that you're not really listening to what I'm saying. You _have_ to trust me when I say _it's not your fault_." Ben smoothed a hand through Alex's hair. "Life is made up of choices. Sometimes you make them, and other times others make them for you. Trying to blame yourself for this is like trying to blame yourself for being responsible for a car accident at the end of your street, merely because you own the cat that the driver attempted to miss."

Alex barely held back a snort. The scenario was absurd. But... it was almost a realistic comparison. Part of him knew that the incessant blaming wasn't getting him anywhere. If anything, it seemed to make Ben more and more determined to get answers out of him. The man just seemed to _know_ when Alex was pulling back into himself, when it was time to push for answers. "Sorry..." He mumbled.

"What for?" Ben asked.

"Being so... stubborn..." He pulled the blankets tighter around himself, content to stay where he was for the time being. His mind was still warring with himself, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the blaming side started to take over again, but for now he was content.

It was all a matter of truly believing what Ben told him. And remembering it...

"You know, I think I should get you a poster to remind you that you've got to stop blaming yourself." Ben teased. "Maybe you'll finally get it drilled into you."

Alex shrugged.

They were silent for a few minutes before Ben broke it again. "I'm going to go out on a limb here, and guess that you didn't want to talk because you were afraid I would reject you or something. Right?"

Alex shrugged, noncommittal. Ben, of course, had hit it right on the mark. The fear of rejection was all too real, and it had taken so long for him just to be able to trust Ben. To be able to trust that Ben was a safe confidant. Someone that he didn't worry about what he had to say around.

"I want you to remember this, Alex. There isn't a single thing you can tell me to make me push you away. Not a single thing."

Alex nodded. He knew that. _For now_...

* * *

><p>The second week in the safe house went considerably better as far as Alex was concerned. As usual, the nightmares hadn't gone away immediately, but they had definitely improved. The first few nights had been rough, as he started working through the nightmares with Ben, and quit the sleeping pills. Over the nights though, things had gotten better and he could once again make it through the night without waking up from one of the nightmares.<p>

With proof that Alex was working toward _fixing_ his problems, Ben had been able to convince MI6 that the last thing they wanted to do was assign Alex another psychologist. There was, of course, always that opportunity that he could voluntarily accept a psychologist again, but Alex had a feeling that that would _never_ happen.

After Ben had turned in the report, the last evidence that Alec Pierre had ever existed was wiped away—aside from the fact that he was still renting out his flat. MI6 had officially transferred care from his doctors in Hammersmith to ones that worked with other agents—retired or not. For the time being, while he was in the safe house, Snake was in charge of keeping him up with his physical therapy, and keeping the doctors informed of any changes. It was only a matter of time until they decided to send someone out to give him a complete check out...

Two weeks of living with k-unit, Braden, and Mendelssohn, had made Alex expect almost anything. Dmitri and Eagle were only seen in the evening hours—and at lunch—having drawn the short straw as far as the shifts went. Wolf normally kept to himself, but occasionally Alex would see him and Mendelssohn having a conversation in a corner. Braden spent the majority of his time writing training scenarios, hiding out in his room, or teasing Mendelssohn and Ben. The last was a bit of a surprise for Alex, but soon the minor teasing drifted over to him as well as they grew _almost_ comfortable around one another again.

After finding out that Ben and Alex were the only two skilled cooks in the house—Mendelssohn had marginal skills that included _not_ burning the pasta, like Braden had managed once—cooking duties fell to them. They had come to a silent agreement that Alex would be responsible for making lunch, while Ben worried about supper. It had evolved into a competition between them, to see who made better food. So far, the two were tied...

Friday afternoon found Alex once again taking a break from his studying—sort of—and making a meal. His two months helping Ben in the kitchen had paid off, making it so that instead of just _Jack's_ ten-minute meals, he had true meals as well. Not that the ten-minute ones didn't come in handy...

All in all, they had settled into a rough routine. Not _all_ routines were bad, and having something in the safe house meant that they were more likely to notice if something went wrong. Not that anything had... k-unit had been cautious, and had proofed the house long before any of the _spies_ had showed up.

As far as the rest of the world was concerned, the house in the woods didn't exist. It was protected enough by the trees that no one could get a reliable reading from a satellite on the size of the house, but not so much that they wouldn't notice intruders. Trip wires had been installed around the perimeter, after having ensured that no animals would set it off by accident. Alex was sure that there were numerous other protections around the house that he just hadn't discovered or heard about as well.

Half paying attention to what he was cooking, and half paying attention to the English Literature textbook he had open on the table, when he heard a noise behind him, he spun around with the knife raised.

Eagle—apparently having woken up for the meal—put his hands up in surrender, and grinned at Alex. "I hope you're not planning to do anything with that."

Alex narrowed his eyes at the man. Eagle wasn't all that bad—in fact, most of k-unit was okay—but he just didn't know them well enough to really make a judgment. Sneaking up on him, even inadvertently, wasn't a way to get onto his good side.

"Is it a crime to get water, now?" Eagle asked.

Alex snorted, opened the cupboard, and handed a cup to Eagle. "Will it get you out of here?" He gestured toward his book on the table. "I'm kind of busy."

Eagle glanced down at the book. "That's not a cook book."

"How very clever of you."

"Don't you need a cook book to cook? What does... '_In what ways does Lee make Calpurnia such a likeable and trustworthy character?'_ have to do with _cooking_?"

Alex rolled his eyes, and flipped the cover over for Eagle's benefit. "English lit. I'm studying."

"And cooking?

"And cooking. Now. Are you going to leave me alone? Or do I have to chase you out of here with a knife?" He waved the offending object threateningly.

"I'll... be going. Just as long as the food's as good as always."

"Don't worry... it will be, as long as you don't distract me."

That was enough to get Eagle to hastily leave the kitchen. Alex just smiled to himself.

* * *

><p>"Are you coming?"<p>

Alex's head jerked up, fixing Snake with a curious stare. Out of everyone in the house, Alex was most comfortable around Snake—aside from Ben, of course. Whether it had to do with the fact that the man could have a remarkably calming presence—despite the fact that he was in the SAS—or not, Alex didn't know. Around Snake though, he acted _almost_ normal.

"Or did you forget? With all that studying."

Alex shrugged sheepishly, remembering immediately what Snake meant. He was able to go on short runs now—without the brace. And since running in the area was severely limited—at least without running into some sort of trap set for intruders—Snake joined him on a route that took them just outside of the set perimeter. It was better than having to drive into London to find a secure place though. "Yeah, forgot... I'll be ready in a few minutes though."

"Good." Snake sent a smile his way, before disappearing out the door and down the hall. Alex could hear the footsteps right up until Snake headed down the stairs.

Sighing, Alex closed his textbook, and went to rummage in his closet. He both loved and hated the runs with Snake. After months of minimal activity, he wasn't able to run much more than a half mile before his knee started aching. That had been the problem when he had been running from MI5/MI6, as he had reached that tipping point. He hadn't been able to continue without risking injuring himself.

Now though, Snake was careful not to push him anymore than absolutely necessary, and they spent more than half the time just walking. Warming up, and cooling down. It was rather annoying that he had gone from being one of the fastest runners in his class, to not even being able to run a long distance...

The start of spring had brought warmer temperatures, and now that it was April, it was no different. After digging for a few minutes, Alex found a pair of rarely used shorts and put them on. He gladly undid the brace and placed it on his bed, knowing he was going to want it later. He ran a hand down his knee, examining the scar tissue not for the first time. Another scar that he'd have for the rest of his life... more evidence that he had had an atypical childhood.

Snorting to himself, he pulled on a sweatshirt, and headed out of the room. He found Snake waiting for him by the backdoor talking to Ben. It didn't take too long to pick up on the fact that Ben was looking for something. And that that something had to do with going out.

"Are you coming too?" Alex asked, surveying him. Ben certainly didn't look like he was ready to go on a short run, but Alex couldn't come up with any other explanation. Besides, it wasn't like it would be a first. The first few runs with Snake, Alex had point blank refused to go outside with someone he barely knew, despite any reassurances that Ben had tried to give him. Thankfully, when it was clear that Alex wouldn't be swayed in his thinking, Ben hadn't made a big deal about it—and Snake had never known. After a few times, Alex had realized that he was just as safe with any of the men, as he was with Ben.

Ben sighed. "Unfortunately, no. _The Bank_ called me in earlier. Either someone didn't get the memo about the safe house, or it really is important..." He cast a glance toward Alex, pausing in his search. "I know you made lunch, but if I'm not back in time, could you take care of supper? I have no clue how long this is going to take, but I have a feeling that it's going to be a while."

Alex shrugged. Making meals wasn't exactly a _hard_ chore, and it meant better food than what anyone else would come up with.

"Thanks. Have you seen a ring of keys anywhere?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Like the ring that you have in your room, in the desk drawer?"

Ben grinned. "I'm not going to ask how you know that... but thanks."

Snake sent a wiry grin toward Alex, before gesturing out the door. The faint outline of a gun was evident, and Alex knew that they weren't taking any chances. If anything happened, it was likely that MI6 would have their jobs. The one downside to running protection...

Outside it was a warm, and the slight breeze that Alex had seen in the morning had died down, leaving the surrounding area eerily quiet. With the deterrents for any animals put out, there wasn't much as far as wildlife was concerned, at least, not close to the house. Every now and then, a bird flew into the area, but even those seemed to understand that the area surrounding the house was the worst place they could possibly be.

Alex heard Snake chuckling, and his gaze snapped back to the man.

"Are you going to spend all day staring about?" Snake asked, nodding toward their usual path. "Or actually get going?"

Alex scowled at Snake before heading off down the path at a brisk pace. _Warm ups_. "I wouldn't feel the need to enjoy the fresh air if it weren't for the fact that you all are keeping me locked up tight in that house."

"There's always the porch."

Alex rolled his eyes. "It's not the same."

"And yet, you spent more than half your time outside last week. Sleeping... studying..." Snake winked at him. "That and cooking are about the only things I see you do."

"Only because there's nothing better to do. And my opportunities are severely limited."

"You could... I don't know... do whatever it is teenagers do."

Alex glared at him. "_I_ wouldn't know."

Snake coughed slightly. "Right... sorry."

"It's okay." Alex stared at the ground, extending his stride again. There had been many such awkward pauses after a question or comment over the past few days. It had happened with almost _everyone_, and Alex had a feeling it had all started with Ben threatening them, to make sure that they didn't overwhelm him. It had been nice for a while, but now it was starting to eerily remind him of the weeks with the Pleasures. The caution, and near refusal to acknowledge his past.

It made him want to strangle someone, sometimes...

Satisfied that he was warmed up enough, he picked up the pace and started running. He wouldn't be able to make it too far, not before his knee started to ache, but at least the distance was increasing each day. Even if the difference was hardly noticeable. It was to him.

Snake kept up with him easily, and Alex could see the man's eyes roving around the trees around them, checking for dangers. Alex paid attention as well, but watched for the more subtle signs. Branches that were out of place, crushed foliage, any sign that a person had been somewhere that they shouldn't. Of course, at a normal running pace, it would be difficult to pick up the faintest signs, but since he was running at a light jog, it was much easier.

When he hit his limit, he slowed down, and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up, transforming into the teenager once again. He had found that it muffled his hearing, and made it harder to notice anything out of place—be it a bird, mammal, or human. Snake was accustomed to his _games_, and played his part by staying silent.

Now that they were outside of the perimeter, animals were seen more often, normally scared by the sudden appearance of the large _predators_. Alex hid an amused smirk in his hood when he heard Snake stumble over a protruding stump in the path. The trail they were following hadn't exactly been made for humans...

Then things were silent again, aside from the bird calls in the trees, and Alex was able to blend into his surroundings.

Relax.

* * *

><p>Alex was busy worrying a hole into his lip when he heard the knock on his door. He jumped up immediately, thinking that Ben was finally back, but then realized that if it had been Ben, he wouldn't have bothered to knock. Deflating slightly—and back to chewing on his lip—he sank back onto his bed, and stared at the door morosely.<p>

The knock repeated itself, leaving no doubt in Alex's mind that it wasn't Ben. And whoever it _was_, wasn't giving up easily.

"Come in..." Alex muttered, only halfheartedly caring. It was already nine in the evening and Ben _still_ wasn't back. He had said he probably wouldn't be back in time to make supper, but... _surely_ he should have been back before dark. Headlights heading out to the safe house would just look suspicious, after all.

He wasn't really _worried_, just annoyed that no one had thought to inform him on what was going on. _Why_ Ben had really had to go into the bank. Were they trying to separate him from Ben? Trying to dislodge any connections he had made? Or were they going to try to blackmail him, with Ben's safety in mind...?

The door opened, and the person cleared their throat, causing Alex to turn his attention away from his hands and back toward the door. He was surprised to find Wolf there, of all people.

"Ben called a few minutes ago."

Alex's hands tensed slightly. If Ben called, that meant he wasn't going to make it in that night... and the last scenario seemed all the more likely.

"Here." Wolf tossed a slender object toward Alex. "He wanted to talk to you."

Alex flinched slightly, before catching the phone. "Ben?"

_"Alex! I'm so sorry it took me so long to call, but things got busy here."_ Ben paused, and Alex could almost hear someone else talking in the background. _"I'm not going to be back for a few days."_

Alex's heart sank. _They_ were up to something... "What? Why?"

_"The Bank needs me to find a contact in Belgium, and since I'm not currently wanted by Simurgh, they decided the benefits outweigh the risks."_

"Belgium? You?" He felt like someone had dumped ice cold water on him. _They_ were sending Ben on a mission. When he _should_ have been in the safe house...

_"I'm the only one that still knows the contact. They were part of a mission a while back, and my partner was the only other person that met them."_

Alex bit his lip. _His partner was dead..._ "You're going now?"

_"My flight's leaving soon, and this contact has information that could potentially help us get rid of Simurgh. Or at least, information about the UK agents. It'll make keeping you safe that much easier."_ Ben sighed. _"Look, I know you don't like the idea of staying there, but you've got to understand—it will take MI6 months to get this kind of information if I don't go. And I think you'd prefer to get out of there sooner rather than later."_

"I..."

_"It's only going to be for a few days, Alex. I'll be back before you know it, and it'll be one less thing to worry about, okay?"_

Alex wished that he could glare at Ben. He was leaving him alone with people he barely knew, and was barely comfortable around them.

_"In the meantime, just relax okay? The others aren't out to get you. You've been okay around Blake the last few days; I know you can do it. Trust them a little. Please?"_

"I... okay..."

_"Good." _There was a long sigh from Ben, and Alex just knew that whatever he was going to say next wasn't going to make him happy. _"Mrs. Jones decided that it would be a good idea to have a doctor come by and take a look at you. Just to make sure that they're not missing something."_

Alex groaned. "Why _now_?"

_"She was giving you some time to settle in, _and_ to get over the latest batch of nightmares. Cooperate, please?"_

"Yeah... sure. Whatever." He stared at the floor. He didn't _want_ this. He had been fine with his own doctor, his own non-MI6-influenced doctor. Of course, he had been scheduled to see his doctor anyway, before MI6 had dragged him into the safe house.

_"I have to go now; my flight's starting to board. Don't do anything stupid, please?"_

Alex bit back a growl, and contented himself with glaring at the floor. "Okay."

_"Good. I'll see you in a few days, and hopefully things should loosen up a little after that. Keep safe, Alex."_

The phone went dead, and Alex clicked it off, biting his lip viciously again. While Ben had explained to the best of his abilities, a strange feeling had welled up inside of him the moment Ben had made it clear that he wasn't coming back any time soon. A feeling of abandonment. He knew it was unfair to think of it that way, but there was no doubt that he was being left behind with people he _didn't know_.

Wolf walked over and took the phone from Alex. "Did he explain?" He asked.

"Yeah." Alex stuffed his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and resumed staring at the ground.

"He... er... he didn't want to leave in the first place, you know?"

Alex shrugged.

Wolf cleared his throat awkwardly. "He was afraid that they'd pull him into something. But... it's only for a few days."

Alex let a hint of a smile cross his face. Wolf was trying to be reassuring... and coming across as completely out of his depth.

Wolf seemed to do away with his attempt and instead settled for frowning toward Alex. "Blake wants you downstairs tomorrow morning. Something about a doctor coming to check you out."

Alex nodded halfheartedly. Of course Snake would know about it. But if he caught so much as a whiff of a psychological evaluation, he was going to leave. No matter what the others thought. He wasn't going to submit to MI6's whims. He had put up with enough of that to fill a lifetime.

"Don't forget." Wolf growled at him, before leaving the room and Alex to his thoughts.

Ben hadn't wanted to go, but he had left all the same. Left Alex alone in a house full of SAS soldiers and spies. The last thing he needed. He was of half a mind to give Ben the cold shoulder when he got back, but something told him that he would all but rejoice at the fact Ben was back. When he wasn't alone anymore.

* * *

><p>It was still early in the morning by the time Alex made it downstairs, but not unbelievably so. Dmitri was still awake, enjoying his meal, though it seemed that Eagle had already disappeared into his room. He nudged a chair over so that Alex could sit down, sending a knowing glance in his direction.<p>

After digging out the cereal, and a fresh cup of tea, Alex joined the older man at the table.

"Morning, Alex." Out of the few times that he had actually been alone in a room with Dmitri, he had been completely civil. And he was the only person able to address Alex without seeming to mentally double check his name.

"Morning."

"Long night?" Dmitri asked.

"Better than most."

Dmitri laughed before running a tired hand over his face. "The house was quiet at least." Dmitri was also the only that alluded to the nightmares. After all, he was the only one that had ever seen Alex after one, the only one that had actually tried to confront him immediately afterwards... Instead of feeling humiliated though, Dmitri had made it clear—through his actions—that the nightmares weren't something to be ashamed of. They were an inevitable part of life, once someone had experienced such _traumatic events_.

Alex wasn't quite sure how he had managed to get all that across with saying so few actual words...

Snake walked into the kitchen, and cast a suspicious glance toward Alex. "You're up early."

Alex shrugged. "Ben made it clear that I was to cooperate. And I decided to be slightly sociable."

Snake raised an eyebrow. "You? Sociable?"

Alex aimed a kick toward the man's shin, earning a muffled curse.

"You weren't this cheeky when Ben was around." Dmitri muttered, sending a grin toward Alex. "Was he keeping you in line?"

"No... I... I was tired." He finished lamely.

Snake grinned before rummaging in the fridge. "Someone's coming to check you in a few hours, so don't go running off on us."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I know. Ben warned me last night." Not that he really wanted anything to do with a doctor of any sort. Ben had all but dragged him to his appointments before. Now, the doctor would just _come_ to him. There was no escape.

"Warned, huh? I don't have to worry about you disappearing on me, do I?"

Alex shook his head.

"Good. Come down to the office at the end of the hall at nine. He should be here by then."

Alex stared at his food for a moment. He wasn't looking forward to that at all. He didn't want someone asking questions—despite the fact that he was getting annoyed with the constant tiptoeing around. Dancing around questions or comments that could be potentially _too much_. He doubted that whoever was coming would have any clue how reluctant he was to talk with anybody... after all, they were with MI6.

Dmitri left for his bed after a few more minutes, leaving Alex and Snake alone and the conversation levels immediately dropped... Once Alex was finished, he decided to collapse on the couch instead of disappearing into his room. _Slightly sociable._ He pulled the iPod out of his pocket—something he had taken to carrying around at all times since Smithers had upgraded it—and started the program that could detect any bugs in the room. He had run it once before, just a few days earlier, looking for bugs in the living room—there hadn't been any then, but he couldn't help being cautious.

Once again the search came up clear, and Alex wondered if the program was just faulty, or if it really was telling him the truth. He had yet to test it out on what he _knew_ were listening bugs, and hadn't searched the whole house... He would definitely have to run it again when the _doctor_ came. He certainly wouldn't put it past MI6 to try something.

* * *

><p>At nine o'clock sharp, Alex was waiting in the small office.<p>

It was clear that whatever the house was used for, it was prepared for the influx of many different types of people. The room was elegant enough that any bureaucrat would accept it as a temporary office, but no soldier would feel uncomfortable. And anyone in between would be happy.

Alex had already checked the room for bugs—still nothing—so he was ready to run the program again when someone came in. He had no idea _what_ kind of information MI6 might like to get from him, but he didn't want to be caught unaware. They weren't going to be able to use him again.

It wasn't very long before Alex heard the doorbell, the customary check password–from an unfamiliar voice–and eventual murmurs coming down the hall. It was all too soon as far as Alex was concerned. In a matter of minutes, the door had swung open and Alex had resolutely stared down at his iPod, watching it for any changes. Waiting for it to flash and tell him that they _had_ tried something.

Snake cleared his throat loudly, obviously trying to get Alex's attention. "This is Alex."

Alex didn't bother to look up, more interested in the results of the reading. When it came back clear again, he was tempted to doubt the results. After all, no bugs whatsoever in a house with four SAS men and four spies? It didn't seem possible.

The man with Snake in the doorway distracted Alex from the puzzling results. For once it wasn't someone he had met before. He wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. For one, they wouldn't have any preconceived notions for him to shatter. But at the same time, they also would have no idea how to _act_ around a teenage spy.

Any preconceived notions Alex had about the man were immediately shattered as well. He was fairly short, on the young side, and his red hair was much longer than any normal military cut. So definitely not a soldier, or even someone affiliated with that area of service. It was clear that he was unarmed, and that he wasn't one used to working with soldiers, judging by the glances he was sending between Alex and Snake.

So a civilian then. One that had somehow been cleared by MI6 for this particular job. Something that would require clearance of the highest level–something that wasn't exactly easy to get in a matter of weeks, much less _days_.

Mutual scanning was received from the stranger, but there was no confusion or surprise in his expression, just curiosity. They had fallen into an awkward silence once it was clear that Alex wasn't about to make the first move.

Snake edged toward a chair, fixing Alex with an unamused stare. Obviously, he thought that Alex was already rebelling. "This is Dr. Sayer."

Alex slowly raised an eyebrow, playing up the teenager side. Internally he was rebelling against the fact that he was in a small room with one new person and another person that he only somewhat trusted. He was going to murder Ben when he got back... After all, he was the one that had gotten him into the mess in the first place.

Dr. Sayer smiled at him, obviously unaffected by the fact that Alex was all but turning a cold shoulder on him. "Morning, Alex."

Alex barely kept himself from frowning. "Morning."

"I've heard a little about you, but I think I'd rather hear it from you. Your friend Ben said you wouldn't be very talkative though."

Alex raised an eyebrow. He had met Ben? Was that Ben's way of encouraging him, even if he wasn't around? Or was it MI6 manipulating things again, to get him to relax...? Of course, Ben _had_ told him to cooperate. He had probably met the man before he left.

Dr. Sayer and Snake took a seat in two if the chairs in front of the desk, seeming to turn around the normal doctor-patient relationship. With Alex behind the desk, it seemed more like he was leading the conversation.

"Why are you here?" Alex asked.

Dr. Sayer raised an eyebrow at the bluntness of the question. "Because I was asked to check up on you. Ben seemed fairly determined that someone should check and make sure that you weren't doing something that could hurt you more. And since you're apparently the type to hide problems that means we're covering _everything_."

Ben had seemed _determined_? Ben was definitely going to pay for this in the end. "Meaning we're doing what?"

"You're the one that seems to be leading this questioning, so where shall we go from here?" If it hadn't been for the fact that he seemed so polite and professional, Alex was sure Dr. Sayer would have been smirking.

Alex leaned forward on the desk, pushing his iPod to the side, and leveling the two of them with a glare to rival Wolf's on a bad day. "Who are you really?"

"You know who I am, you know what I'm doing here, you even know who sent me–and in case you haven't figured it out, that would be a joint effort of both Mrs. Jones, and one Benjamin Daniels–and you know, as well as I do, that playing games isn't going to get us anywhere." The man placed his elbows on the other side of the desk, matching Alex's stare. "Now are we going to spend all morning sparring with words–and I'll be sure to give them a complete psych evaluation if we do–or can we get down to the business at hand and finish in time for lunch? It's all up to you."

Alex deflated slightly, knowing he was beat. "Now..."

"Good." Dr. Sayer placed a file on the desk that Alex hadn't previously seen. "They gave this to me to get acquainted with your history, and from the little I've seen... the last two years have been rather rough for you. Minor injuries, a number of concussions with very little time to recover from them, several encounters with burns–some severe enough to require extended hospitalization—broken bones, a bullet to your chest, and more recently, knee surgery and epilepsy."

Alex barely caught the involuntary twitch at the word _epilepsy_. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore, just whether or not something would affect the epilepsy. Whether or not doing something would increase the likelihood of having another seizure. He hated it.

Dr. Sayer nodded slightly, seeming to read Alex's mind. "While most of these are minor, or well into the past that they're not a current issue, I think the ones that are affecting you the most is the surgery and epilepsy. You've been in physical therapy for what, the last four months?"

Alex nodded jerkily, mildly surprised that the doctor was content with skipping over _months_ of potentially useful history. Not that he was complaining...

The doctor flipped through the file slowly, making Alex wonder what his plan was. "And you're just now starting to get back to normal activities."

Alex bit his lip lightly. _Cooperate_, Ben had said... "Normal-ish."

"How so?"

"I'm still supposed to wear the brace the majority of the time, and I can't run very far before it starts to get sore."

"An expected side effect. You've been off of it for so many months now that you need to build the muscle back up. Around six months is when we'd start to look into other problems that might be affecting healing. You're a teenager, so you shouldn't have any problems, unless you manage to re-injure yourself. What's your range of motion like?"

Alex groaned to himself. Something told him it was going to be a long morning. Especially if the doctor was going to go over everything in _detail_...

* * *

><p><em>"As long as you watch yourself, take the medicine on time, and avoid stress—as much as you can in these types of situations—your seizures should be well controlled. And if you're lucky, you'll never have another one again."<em>

The doctor's parting words echoed around Alex's head, even after the doctor had been gone for a few hours. It had been the one—small—ray of hope for him, out of everything they had covered. The doctor had wanted to know everything about the past few months, checking anything that might be remotely related, or remotely affected. Range of motion. Agility drills. Possibilities for introducing some more variety into his physical therapy routine...

They hadn't spent the entire morning in the officer either. They had gone out on a walk—and a very short run—to check his gait and make sure that he wasn't accidentally doing something that could make things worse in the long run. From there, they had gone to looking into things more in his past—like the bullet wound and burns on his back. It wasn't so much of _how_ he got it, but _how_ he recovered from it. And both the doctor and Snake were less than pleased by the short amount of time he had spent recovering some the bullet wound.

Then they made sure that his heart was actually functioning properly—and there were some rather disturbing doubts there—as well as thoughts on what tests might be a good idea to get done in the future, once he was finally out of the safe house. _If ever..._ And then they had spent more than an hour covering all aspects of epilepsy, the seizures, and the nightmares that affected his sleep, thus causing more seizures.

He had been less than happy about the majority of the conversation, but had enjoyed seeing the tiny finches from Snake every time Dr. Sayer asked what the others considered to be _prying_. He certainly didn't dance around the questions, but didn't press too hard when Alex refused to answer. All in all, it had turned out better than Alex had expected...

That didn't mean that he wasn't going to get after Ben when he got back though. Ben was directly responsible for the doctor's appearance, after all.

The meeting had been both informative and stressful, and as far as Alex was concerned, not going to happen again anytime soon. At least, not without Ben being around to field _some_ of the questions.

Alex jumped up from his seat at the kitchen table, catching the pot on the stove just before it started to boil over. As soon as the doctor had left, Alex had grabbed a textbook from his room, and headed down to the kitchen to start making lunch. It wasn't as if he was running out of things to do in his spare time...

By the time the rice and vegetables were ready, Alex had finished another section in the science textbook. He found himself almost _wishing_ for tests to study for, just so he had a reason for _knowing_ the information in the first place. All he was left with were notebooks full of notes that were eventually transferred over to his laptop.

"Is the food ready?" Snake asked, popping his head in the door.

"Yeah, just get the plates down and we can eat."

Dmitri wandered into the kitchen behind Snake, and slumped down in a chair, eyes closing shut almost as soon as his head hit his hands. Snake sent an annoyed glance in his direction, before moving over to the cupboards and pull down the plates. There was an unspoken agreement that someone else was responsible for getting the plates and whatnot down, since Alex had made the food.

Unfortunately for Snake, Dmitri was being rather unhelpful as far as setting the table went. "Oi, budge up you useless lump of nothing."

"No..." The answer was muffled in the man's arms, and Alex had to hide a grin.

Snake huffed. "Then you don't have to eat. I can't set a place with you blocking it."

"Mmph." Dmitri sat up slightly, blinking toward Snake with a sleepy gaze. It was obvious that he had just woken up, and that he wasn't exactly... well, a person that woke up well.

"Did you get Micah up?"

"Told me ta... shove off." He cast a glance toward Alex. "Might wan'ta save 'im some though."

Alex snorted. It was still strange to get used to the bickering that sometimes went on in the house. More often than not, Ben and Braden had just added to it... "There'll be plenty." And he had a feeling that Eagle would show up on his own soon enough.

It only took a few minutes for the rest of the group to show up, and for their normal bickering to dissolve into physical shoves. Mendelssohn and Wolf were the only two to really stay out of it—Wolf's reputation and Mendelssohn's physical size making them all over bad targets.

"What you must think of our special forces..." Mendelssohn muttered to Alex, shaking his head. "They're worse than children sometimes, but it's their way of getting rid of the stress."

"I think I can understand, under the circumstances."

Mendelssohn shrugged. "If they're anything like my brother's unit, as soon as they get into a serious situation they'll stop the fooling around. Or when they're at the training camp. Rest of the time..." He waved his hand vaguely toward where Dmitri and Eagle—he had wandered down, just as Alex had predicted—were arguing over who had had the worst _shift_. "Well, regular social boundaries and mannerisms go out the window."

Alex smiled slightly, before aiming a wayward kick toward Eagle who was in the way. Eagle's half awake glare did nothing more than make Alex smirk. Even when the man was fully conscious, his glare was anything but ferocious. Of course, when he had first been at the SAS camp, it might have been intimidating; but now, even Wolf's didn't seem so bad. Either he had just gotten used to it, or he had seen much, _much_ worse...

The meal seemed to be going well, and Alex's mind was already back onto what was supposed to be coming next in the textbook. He had finished the biology section, and was now onto the chemistry. So far, chemistry was harder...

Alex was half zoned out when he heard it, and even then, it took the others a moment to realize as well. Eagle was edging Dmitri on—as usual—this time about some late night competition they had had between each other, as a way to kill time during their shifts.

"Your aim was completely off." Eagle said, gesturing with his fork. "You would have missed the broadside of a barn."

"Was not." Dmitri shot back, clearly awake now. "Just because you got lucky this once, doesn't mean that I've got bad aim. It's not my fault that I can barely see in the dark after looking at some bright lights. You tricked me!"

"The target was huge! A baby could have made it."

"Yeah. A baby with training as an assassin..." Dmitri grumbled, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Alex felt the two next to him tense slightly, and then a narrowed gaze in his direction. Eagle and Dmitri continued on without noticing a thing.

"That target was six feet tall, and two feet wide. That's bigger than the average _human_. If you can't hit that, how do you expect to disable your enemies? I'm sure even A—" Eagle was cut off by a sharp smack on the head and a vicious glare from Wolf. Everyone froze for a moment, before seeming to take in the fact that, yes, Eagle had just said that. In front of Alex...

Alex was doing his best not to smirk at the sudden terrified look on Eagle's face, and after a moment the man turned to look at him. Alex stared at him blankly. "Don't stop on my account. I'm sure I've heard just about anything you can come up with, before."

Eagle gaped at him. "Umm... er..."

Alex sighed, mockingly, before getting up from the table. "Who knew that such simple questions could reduce grown men to blithering idiots?" Even Braden seemed to have a hard time swallowing that comment. "I'm not going to bite you guys if you mention that sort of stuff around me. It's not like it didn't ever come up when I lived with Ben... hell, I instigated half if it. Just don't... ask me questions, or whatever." Alex stared down at the table off a moment, before looking back up with a smirk firmly set in his face. "I made lunch, so the dishes are all yours."

He glanced around the room once more, pulled the textbook off the counter, and made a hasty retreat for the safety of his room. Disaster number—well, who knew what number—prevented for the time being. And it had the added effect that the others might not act as stilted and awkward around him all the time. For now though, all he had to look forward to, were hours of studying and the wish that Ben would get back sooner rather than later...

* * *

><p>Alex pulled the covers tighter around himself, trying to ignore the pounding pain he felt in his hand. Punching mirrors wasn't normally a recommended activity, but Alex had been too consumed by his emotions to really care.<p>

He was mad at himself for forming a relationship with someone. After all, it was a proven fact that whoever knew him eventually turned up dead. _Because of him._ For so many months though, _someone_ had tried to tell him differently. Had pretended to reassure him that it wasn't his fault that things went wrong in the world. And of course, mere days after telling him that for the umpteenth time, said person went missing in action.

_MIA._

It had been more than a week since Ben had left, and Alex had almost grown used to it. After all, there hadn't been much choice. Slowly, he had gotten used to the bickering and sometimes childish antics used by the soldiers to blow off steam.

Each day, he had hoped that Ben would come back, because no matter how _used to it_, he got, it just wasn't the same.

Over the past few nights Alex had started re-experiencing the indistinct nightmares that had plagued his sleep while Luke has stayed over. The overall feeling of unease. The only difference this time was that feelings were well founded.

The news had just come, only a few minutes earlier. Ben had lost contact with his back up team three days ago, and subsequent searches hadn't turned up anything useful. There was no sign that Ben was anywhere _near_ where he was supposed to be.

The contact he was supposed to be meeting with had turned up dead in an alleyway. There was no doubt about how his death had come about—two very obvious knife wounds to the base of his skull—but no sign that Ben had been in the area.

Alex had all but forced the others to tell him everything, before he had fled to his room—after punching the mirror in the hall, of course.

_Stupid MI6._

_Stupid life._

_It's my fault_.

Ben wouldn't have gone out to meet the person if it hadn't been for the fact that Alex was in hiding. There would have been no need for him to go alone—even _if_ he was the only one that knew the contact. He could have had better backup, and the situation wouldn't have been so desperate.

Alex tightening his hands into fists, wincing slightly. His hand had been bloody when he had glanced down at it after running from the room—a direct result of punching the mirror. Something that hadn't helped with his frustration—shock, fury, anger, _helplessness_—in any way. All it had succeeded in doing was to distract him for a mere second—and thoroughly shock the others.

He knew it would only be a matter of time before someone followed him up. Before someone tried to get some explanations for his actions out of him. At the very least, it would be to find out if he was _okay_. But for the moment, he wanted to be alone.

He wanted to try to figure out things on his own. Ben should've—at the very least—been in the safe house with the rest of them. If not at _his own_ home, or flat, in contact with his family. Not in another country trying to do something that would _help Alex_.

What about his _family_? Would they even be notified that Ben was MIA? Or would MI6 keep them in the dark until there was solid evidence—a body—that he wasn't coming back? None of them—as far as Alex knew—were aware of Ben's job and what it entailed... the risks and danger that he saw each day he was in the field...

The door to the room swung open, and Dmitri came in, holding a small plastic case. "Alex?"

Alex pulled the covers tighter around himself, hiding the wince as the open wounds grated against the cloth. He wanted to be alone. And—at the risk of sounding like a child—he wanted Ben back.

Dmitri edged into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. "Hey, you okay?"

Alex bit down, hard, on his lip to keep the hysterical laughter from bubbling up. _Of course_ he wasn't okay. Ben was MIA, and he had been left behind with a house full of strangers. And not just any strangers either. Strangers that were directly connected to MI6... making _him_ prisoner.

"What am I saying...?" Dmitri muttered to himself, seeming to mentally backup. "You're not okay, because you wouldn't have just punched the mirror if you were."

Alex glared at the bed sheets. "Go away."

"Not yet, Alex." He edged close, until he was at the end of the bed. "You're hurt."

"No, I'm not. Go away."

Dmitri sighed. "There was blood all over down there, so I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you cut your hand up when you punched the mirror." He placed the container down on the edge of the bed, before sitting down himself. Alex pulled away as much as physically possible. "Blake doesn't want it getting infected."

"Don't care."

"You will in a few days when Blake has to treat you by force." Dmitri frowned slightly, seeming to realize that he wasn't getting Alex do to _anything_. "Just let me look at it. Then I'll leave you alone."

Alex turned his glare on Dmitri. "It's fine."

"The hell, _it's fine_." Dmitri glared at him. "Kid, you've got blood on your blanket. I'm not giving up _that_ easily."

Alex scowled at being called a kid, before hissing as Dmitri pulled the blankets away, and grabbing onto his wrist. Alex tried to pull away, but Dmitri held him tightly. Unless he wanted to break his wrist, he wasn't getting away. His hand didn't look _too_ bad, but it was clear that just letting it bleed freely wasn't going to help anything.

"I get that you're feeling angry, or sad, or whatever else might be going through your head at this moment, but that doesn't mean that your own personal well being can go right out the window." Dmitri didn't loosen the grip at all, no matter how much Alex tugged on his arm. "Ben wouldn't want you to act like this."

That did it.

It pushed Alex over the edge. He yanked his arm back, while sending a kick toward Dmitri's chest. "How the hell would _you_ know what Ben _wants_? You don't know _anything_!" The sudden movement caught Dmitri off guard, and the kick sent him sprawling on his back. "You don't know what he _wants_!"

Dmitri watched Alex with guarded eyes, making slow and cautious movements. "Alex... calm down. I'm just saying... Ben wants you safe here. He wouldn't want you hurting yourself because you're upset."

"Shut up!" Alex all but screeched at the man. He was far past just _upset_. "Leave. Me. _Alone_!"

"I'm trying to help you, Alex."

"Go away!"

Dmitri raised his hands in defeat, edging toward the door. "Fine... just... clean up your hand. The things are there." He nodded toward the container on the end of the bed, before opening the door. "And you know, just because he's missing doesn't mean he's not coming back. There's still a chance."

Alex choked back a sob. _A chance_. That was all. He pulled the blankets tight around himself again, as soon as Dmitri closed the door. He didn't care that fresh blood had fallen from his hand onto the blankets. He didn't care that Dmitri was all but pleading with him to take care of himself. He didn't care that everyone else seemed to be holding out hope. _For his sake_.

He knew. Ben wasn't coming back.

_He's gone._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And on that depressing note, I'll leave you. I made this chapter extra, extra, extra long since I'll be away from posting for around a month. It's unclear whether I'll be able to get a chapter out while I'm on my trip, but we'll see (since I won't have _my_ laptop, chances are I _won't_ post).**

**What did you think? I know there was a lot in this chapter. Lots of different things happening and going on, and things to keep track of... I hope I haven't lost you somewhere in the midst of all this... though I understand that it might be a bit confusing. Depends...**

**We had confrontation with Ben about the nightmares, interaction with all of k-unit and the spies, some friendly bickering, teasing, Ben's mission, doctor appointments (every time I wrote _the doctor_, I thought of _The Doctor_...), and now, Ben's MIA... and possibly dead. Oh dear. Tell me what you liked. Did Alex sound too whiny? Bratish? Whimpy? Angsty? Etc? I _am_ trying to keep that under control...**

**A lot of you responded to the new POV favorably. Let me just say though, the NEW POV (for _one chapter—_probably chapter 27) would not be one of k-unit/Braden/Mendelssohn. No one _currently_ in the safe house. Still like the idea? Great. Not so much? Well...**

**So long my dear followers! Some of you reviewers might notice something you mentioned in your review here (sort of...), and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have come up with half the ideas if it hadn't been for you guys! So please, give me a nice surprise when I get back of lots and lots of reviews...**

**Until July 22 (or possibly sooner), I bid thee, '_Farewell.'_**

**S.B.L.**


	26. Back from the Dead

**Disclaimer: **_Blah, blah, blah. Do you really think Alex Rider belongs to me?_

**_Previously..._**

_Alex choked back a sob. _A chance. _That was all. He pulled the blankets tight around himself again, as soon as Dmitri closed the door. He didn't care that fresh blood had fallen from his hand onto the blankets. He didn't care that Dmitri was all but pleading with him to take care of himself. He didn't care that everyone else seemed to be holding out hope. _For his sake.

_He knew. Ben wasn't coming back._

He's gone.

**CHAPTER 26: Back from the Dead**

* * *

><p>It had been a long two weeks. And spending more than a week of that hiding out in various border towns in Belgium and France wasn't exactly what Ben would consider as <em>fun<em>. The entire mission had gone belly up, just two days after he had arrived and made first contact with the person in Brussels.

Leroy—and Ben was sure that that wasn't the man's real name—had been less than pleased to see Ben. The only thing that had stopped him from slamming the door in Ben's face had been the fact that Ben's gun was already out and pressed into his stomach.

There was no need for dicing around.

As far as Leroy knew, Ben—or rather, _DuPont_—was a rogue agent for the DGSE, who had needed information on the mafia in Brussels a few years earlier. He had paid well, committed a few blatant crimes, and ensured Leroy's silence on the matter. His partner then, Freedman, had been the one to actually use the evidence to bring down their target, keeping Ben's cover intact.

This time though, things had been different. Leroy had acted shiftily the entire time Ben had talked to him. It was clear the _DuPont_ wasn't the biggest threat in his life anymore. By the time Ben left, he was thoroughly unsettled. There had been something just _off_ about the entire thing.

From there, he had been extra careful about keeping his cover, no matter where he was. He had doubled and triple checked the room he was staying in for bugs and cameras, before checking in with the SAS team that had accompanied him.

B-unit was a good team and were used to the long stake outs and intricacies of spy work. Unlike most of the other units. They had stayed on the other side of the city, with the cover of providing protection for a visiting dignitary. Really, there _was_ a visiting dignitary, but there was no need for a SAS team to accompany them. It had all been cleverly set up by the government...

After Ben had assured himself that no one was following him or bugging his room, he had sent the message that his status was unchanged, and continued on with the night. He had done the same thing for the next two nights, while dropping in on Leroy once more to prove his seriousness.

The third night had involved him breaking into Leroy's house, downloading as much as possible from the computer, and then planting a virus to wipe any traces that he had been there. MI6 was pushing for him to finish the mission sooner rather than later and had resorted to the brute force method, hoping to get at least something.

Time had nearly run out on him, and he had pulled a move from Alex's book to get out, forgoing the use of a regular stairwell—and risk getting caught and shot at—and climbing out a window onto a fire escape. He made the landing easily, but it wasn't hard to see how Alex had twisted his knee if he had been in a panic.

Ben had thought he got away clean.

Unfortunately, from there, everything had gone downhill. Not a single thing had gone right, and before he knew it, Ben found himself running from three men with guns, in the opposite direction of his backup. By the end of the night, he was hours away from where he was supposed to be, had missed four of his required check in times, and was without any way to contact anyone. And people were still searching for him.

In the end, it had merely been chance. He had stayed away from the towns as much as possible—as possible as that was in _any_ country—and stayed away from people in general. Even with those precautions, whoever was chasing him had almost caught him three other times.

After the fourteenth day on the run, he had made it safely across the border into France, and into _Vieux-Condé_. There, he had been able to find a secure place, and was able to contact MI6.

Needless to say, by the time b-unit caught up with him, and they headed back to London, he had been exhausted. His roundabout route had added at least a week—if not more—to his journey to France, and he had only gotten across the border without being spotted by pure luck. A member of the French police had stopped him on the way into the city—suspicious of his rather shabby looking appearance—and had demanded identification. Thankfully he had had some—albeit, one that was for yet another alias.

By the time he had dozed for an hour or so, arrived in London, been debriefed and handed over the evidence he had managed to get from Leroy's computer, he was more than ready to go back to the safe house. And was absolutely _thrilled_ to hear that he had been considered MIA for the past ten days. He wasn't quite sure whether to be miffed or not that his family hadn't been contacted, but according to everyone he talked to, it was standard operating procedure.

All things said and done, it was mid-afternoon before he was allowed out of headquarters. Even then, someone had to come from the safe house to pick him up, since they had yet to downgrade the current security threat. With Ben MIA, and no idea whether he had been captured or not, there was no way to tell if the safe house had been compromised or not. They had had one more week before they would have had to switch houses... They wouldn't have to now, and they were going to downgrade the security threat as soon as a member of k-unit showed up to get the new orders... and to pick up Ben.

As exhausted as he was, he wasn't too surprised to find someone kindly kicking him awake. They were just lucky he wasn't currently armed. Or they might have found some vital parts missing before he was completely awake.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Ben." It was Dmitri, and he had a smug smirk on his face. "Imagine my surprise to find out that not only are they downgrading our security threat, but we've got ourselves a supposedly missing in action agent back as well. It's been what—ten days since you were called MIA?"

Ben rolled his eyes and stretched out the kinks in his neck. "Yeah." He stood up, grateful to finally be headed back to the safe house. He could practically _hear_ his bed calling his name. And it also meant he would get some decent food for the first time in days...

Dmitri led the way out through the back of the building, and down a shady looking alley that was really a cover for exit four of five out of the building. Everyone had to go in by the main entrance, but if you had permission—or a card—you could go out the back. Since Dmitri was _escorting_ a potential target, the shortest route to their car was used.

"So... why'd they send you?" Ben asked, once they were safely in the car and heading out of the city. "Didn't you have the night shift?"

Dmitri shrugged. "They decided that I'd be the best one to send, as I was the least likely to do anything regrettable if the news wasn't good."

"Regrettable?"

"Well, if the news was that they had found your body somewhere... I don't think any of the others would have taken it well. And it was easiest this way to keep the fact that someone was going out, away from Alex."

There was a slight pang to the way he said Alex's name, and Ben immediately latched onto it. "What's wrong with Alex?"

Dmitri hesitated, seeming to weigh his options carefully. "He was fine the first week." He said, slowly. "I think he actually got used to us some, used to the banter and whatnot. Not that he was happy when you didn't come home that night. I think he honestly worries about you."

"And everyone else in the world..." Ben muttered.

"Hmm." Dmitri took a sharp turn, nearly unsettling Ben from his seat. "Sorry. Even though you're clear, we're supposed to take the long way back—with evasive maneuvers."

Ben slouched in his seat, and tugged the seat belt tighter. Dmitri had only mentioned the first week... he had been gone for more than two full weeks. "What happened to Alex after a week?"

Dmitri took another sharp turn, clearly focusing on the road instead of Ben's question. It seemed to have touched something of a nerve. "I guess... he kind of flew off the handle when the announcement came in. He was just so... so angry. And I don't think that was him truly being mad either... I'd hate to see what the kid could do if he really got mad at someone."

_Kill them maybe_...?

"He cut his hand up by punching a mirror the first night you were officially MIA. Practically pulled the answers out of Sebastian when everyone grew quiet. We didn't tell him right away, and I guess... we're still paying for that." Dmitri shrugged slightly. "He's mellowed out the past few days, but doesn't appear much longer than to make meals or go on a run with Blake. Ignores everyone else. I don't think I've heard him say a single word since he yelled at me to get out of his room." There was a dry, humorless laugh. "I think the only reason he hasn't given up completely is because there was still a shard of hope that you'd come back—even if he didn't consciously believe it."

Ben sighed. "And here I'd thought this would be a relaxing homecoming..."

"Maybe he'll snap out of it when he sees you...?"

"It's Alex though. He won't. He'll either hold a grudge or it'll take hours to convince him that I'm not going to disappear the moment he does something _'wrong._'" Ben rubbed at his face, before staring out the window. "How long until we get there?"

"Is that your way of asking, are we there yet?"

Ben glared at the man.

"Okay, okay... we should be there just after five. So two hours or so."

"Good." That meant that he had two hours to figure out all the ways Alex might react to his presence again—including shunning, anger, denial, and even the un-Alex-ish reaction of tears. From there, he had to figure out the best way to actually get on Alex's good side again.

Two hours might not actually be enough...

* * *

><p>By the time they finally reached the house, Ben had worked his mind into over a dozen worst case scenarios. All of them likely had some form of the truth in them. It was clear that Alex felt abandoned, and hadn't trusted the others enough, instead pushing them away. Dmitri had explained about the night he had been announced MIA and Alex's reaction—as well as the clear message that Alex didn't believe that Ben was coming back. <em>Ever<em>.

It was maddening to know that most of the tension could have been helped if Alex had actually trusted someone enough to actually listen to them for once. Instead, it seemed that he had blocked everything out, closing himself off from the rest of the world. Meaning that Alex's self-blame issues were influencing this as well.

And if there had been nightmares...

Ben shuddered to think of what _that_ could mean. No one had heard anything in the house—at least, as far as Dmitri knew—so there were only two explanations. One, Alex _wasn't_ having nightmares, or two, Alex _wasn't_ sleeping. And from previous experience with Alex, Ben suspected that not sleeping was the answer.

Ben was bouncing on his toes as they waited in the entryway to be let into the house. The upgraded security threat meant that there was an active screening before anyone was let into the house. That would, of course, go away as soon as Dmitri turned in the new orders. In the meantime, Ben was getting anxious to get inside and to find Alex.

He had never really considered it before, but he was essentially the kid's _only_ friend. Or rather, the only friend that he _accepted_...

"You're back." Sebastian said, finally opening the door. He waved them in, after Dmitri had rattled off the code. He nodded toward Ben. "In one piece."

"Thankfully. Not for the lack of trying on some people's parts though."

Blake snorted, glancing up from his seat in the living room. "Any injuries I should know about?"

"No. A little dehydration, but nothing worse." Ben glanced around the room, noticing that the only occupants were k-unit. Obviously, Micah was still sleeping. "Where are the others?"

"Rooms. Except Alex. I think he's just finishing up the supper." Blake shook his head slowly. "Poor kid... all the fight went out of him the past few days. He's pretty gloomy and shut off."

"So I heard..." Ben stared at the archway into the kitchen, and could make out the sounds of someone moving around in it. It wasn't too hard to make out the clank of dishes, as Alex did whatever it was he was doing. Ben's previous agenda to immediately see Alex was replaced with anxiousness, as he was unsure of what kind of greeting he would get. "He's been... out of it?"

"It's like keeping an eye on a zombie." Blake said. "He barely eats, refuses to talk to any of us—much less make eye contact—and pushes himself to exhaustion whenever we're on the runs. If he doesn't improve in the next few days... well, I was ready to take drastic measures."

"How drastic?" It was the best way to get an idea of the situation. He already feared the worst as far as the nightmares were concerned... How bad _were_ things really?

"At the very least, that doctor should come have another look at him. I can't help him if I don't know what the problem is in the first place." Blake shrugged. "Maybe he'll respond to you."

Ben sighed and ran a hand over his face. _Very bad_. And it seemed that everyone was hoping that he'd have the answer to whatever Alex's problem was. _Problems_...

The sound of glass shattering caught everyone's attention, and Ben's heart immediately sunk.

_Too late_.

Everyone turned toward where the noise had originated—the kitchen—and one look through the door told Ben all he needed to know. The others had moved forward as well, but Ben all but pushed through the two that were blocking his way.

He was _too late_ to help Alex. _Too late_ to keep _this_ from happening, what they had been so afraid of for so many months.

It only took a few moments for Blake's training to kick in, and he from there, he started ordering the others around, giving them something to do—and to keep them out of the way. A medic in his element was not one to be messed with, and the others quickly complied.

Ben seemed to zone out, only noticing the important things. Alex was still seizing. Glass from the plates that had broken was embedded in his arm. More glass slivers and pieces were scattered around the right side of his body. It was likely that the plates had dropped when he collapsed...

Ben pulled his jacket off, and placed it underneath Alex's head, and waited for the worst to be over with. He vaguely saw Blake moving around in the peripheral of his vision, sweeping away as many glass shards as he could, without risking getting more into Alex's arm.

Finally, after what felt like waiting for an hour, Alex fell still. Blake seemed to automatically take the vital signs. "Two and a half minutes. Does that sound about normal?"

Ben managed a shaky nod, not sure if he was ready for anything more verbal. The last time, he had been half expecting it. When Alex had worked himself into such a state that it was nearly inevitable.

This though... He had been gone for so long... He hadn't been around to see the warning signs. He hadn't been around to nudge Alex away from the cliff of inevitability. He almost felt responsible.

With Ben's help, Blake was able to roll Alex onto his side, and brush the rest of the glass away from around him. Now all that was left was the glass that had managed to work its way inside of Alex's arm.

Ben brushed a hand over Alex's forehead, but paused, feeling the temperature. "He's hot. That's... not normal."

Blake touched Alex's forehead. "Fever? It might explain some of the listlessness over the past few days... but he hasn't let anyone near enough to find out." He rocked back on his heels and sighed... "I hate to think how much of this could have been prevented if he actually _talked to us_."

Ben nodded, while running a hand through Alex's hair. He hated to think how much could have been prevented if MI6 hadn't sent him on the mission. In the end, someone else could have done it... it had just involved breaking into Leroy's house...

Dmitri came back into the room with Blake's medical case and a blanket. The shivers and shudders had already started up for Alex, and there was no doubt that he was definitely sick. They carefully wrapped the blanket around him, avoiding his arm as best they could. Once he was bundled up and as comfortable as they could make him, Dmitri disappeared back out the door and Blake started working on the glass in Alex's arm.

"How long does it normally take him to wake up?" Blake asked.

"Between five and ten minutes. Sometimes less."

"How many has he had?"

"This is his... fifth one."

Blake sighed, and started to remove the largest pieces of glass. It didn't look like anything was particularly _deep_; there was just a lot of it. "Once he wakes up, we can move him up to his room. He'll be more comfortable there, and I can get the smaller pieces of glass out with some better light." There was a light clinking sound as the larger pieces formed a pile. "He doesn't normally stay awake for very long right after, right?"

Ben shook his head.

"What about pain? Normally?"

"He'll take painkillers when he wakes up; if he can stay awake long enough."

"I'll give him an injection once he wakes up then. It'll be faster than waiting for any medicine he takes to start working."

A low groan caught both of their attentions, and Ben combed his fingers through Alex's hair in a soothing gesture. From there, it wasn't long until his eyelids started fluttering and he came back into the world of the conscious. Instead of Alex's normal groggy reaction though, Ben was shocked to see the tears running down the boy's face. Alex's fists clenched and Ben could see the barely scabbed over marks from where he had presumably punched the mirror.

"Alex... it's okay. You're going to be okay. It's not that bad..." He continued running his hand through Alex's hair, and was eventually rewarded with a half glance. His eyes showed bewilderment and exhaustion, as well as something else Ben couldn't identify. "Blake's going to get you something to help with the pain."

Alex barely seemed to notice when the needle slid into his arm a few moments later. His eyes blinked slowly, staying closed longer than Ben would have liked. It was clear that Alex wasn't sure what to make of the situation around him.

"How's your head?"

"Hur-hurts." Alex attempted to curl in on himself, clenching his fists again.

Ben caught his shoulders before he moved too far. "Hold still, okay? Some plates broke, and you've still got glass in your arm."

Alex nodded once, and Ben thought he had fallen back asleep. Then he heard the nearly mumbled and hushed question. "What happened? _Where_..."

Ben and Blake exchanged a guarded glance. While Ben knew that Alex was normally disoriented after a seizure, before he had at least known where he was. Had at least known somewhere deep in his subconscious what had happened.

"We're at the safe house, Alex. You had a seizure."

"Oh..."

"Alex, look at me for a moment." Blake said, coming right next to his head. Alex obligingly opened his eyes long enough for Blake to shine a light in and determine that there weren't any telltale signs there. "Do you remember what day it is?"

Alex's eyebrow creased for a moment. "M-mo-monday?"

Blake frowned slightly, before shrugging, and finished wrapping a protective covering around Alex's arm. "I think we can take him up. I'll finish up there. Just be careful of his arm."

"Come on Alex, we're going upstairs." Ben slipped a hand behind him, and helped him sit up. Alex swayed a few times, before Ben was able to steady him. "Think you can walk up? Or should I carry you?" Alex did nothing more than shudder slightly and Ben sighed. "Carrying it is, then."

Initially getting Alex up from the floor was harder than Ben had first suspected. If he hadn't had to avoid the arm, it would have been much easier. It balanced out in the end, with Alex wrapping his good arm around Ben's neck in a near death-grip. And with the way Alex's head was resting against Ben's chest, Ben doubted that they were even going to make it up the stairs before Alex fell back asleep.

It was humorous and depressing at the same time.

Blake cleaned up the last of the mess while Ben took Alex upstairs. Sebastian was in the living room, and it seemed that Micah had drifted down as well. Micah opened his mouth to say something, but Sebastian, not so discreetly, stepped on his foot. Ben was thankful for being able to avoid the questions...

Like he had predicted, Alex was fast asleep once they reached his room. Not wanting to force Alex out of his much needed sleep, Ben set him down and eventually came to the conclusion that there was no way he was going to get Alex to relinquish his grip _without_ waking him up. So, he settled down on the bed as well, letting Alex lean against his chest.

In some ways, it was amazing that the kid was actually breathing. Still alive and not giving up. He had gotten close though... there was no doubt in Ben's mind that if he hadn't been back, Alex would have gone downhill fast after the seizure. It just wouldn't have worked out. The will to live sounded like it had only been hanging on by only a thread.

That was probably why Alex now refused, even in his sleep, to let go of Ben...

"He's asleep?" Blake asked, carrying in his bag once more, and unpacking it on the desk. Disinfectant, gauze, tweezers, some kind of injection...

"Yeah. Won't let go, either."

Blake paused in his movements, surveying the two of them. "Do you mind staying there? I'll try to numb his arm, but I can't guarantee that he won't come around again."

"It's fine." He readjusted Alex slightly, making sure that the blanket wrapped the still occasionally trembling body. He doubted that once Alex was in full use of his facilities again he would let Ben close. For now though, he could get the comfort across subconsciously.

Blake unwrapped Alex's arm, revealing the pieces of glass that were still embedded. The smaller shards that would take time and concentration to get out. Ben didn't envy Blake the task at all, and though he was somewhat accustomed to seeing blood, it was one thing to see it on a stranger, or an adult, but completely different to see it on a teenager. It brought back some rather disturbing memories of Luke's accident, although Ben knew it was nowhere near as bad.

Through some slow and cautious work on Blake's part, he was able to apply the local anesthetic to the majority of Alex's arm, without him waking up. Even then though, he had tried to pull away in his sleep more than once, only to be soothed back into a deeper sleep by Ben.

Neither of them wanted the kid awake and hurting—especially when the majority of the pain could be prevented just by keeping him asleep.

After using enough medicine that Ben was sure that Alex wouldn't be using his arm for at least a few hours, Blake started in on the tortuously slow task of removing the glass slivers. Each movement made Ben wince in sympathy, and hope that Alex stayed asleep just that much longer. Though none of the cuts had been deep enough to need stitches, Alex's arm was all but covered in the red marks. And some of the cuts had to be made deeper, just so Blake could get the glass out...

Every now and then, Alex managed a whimper in his sleep, aware that _something_ was happening, just the awareness of _what_ it was, hadn't penetrated completely yet. It took more than an hour for Blake to be satisfied that most—if not all—of the glass was out. Just as he had started rewrapping Alex's arm with gauze, Alex started to come around again.

With that awareness, his grip on Ben slackened, and Ben took the moment to pry himself away. Alex didn't even seem to notice that what he had previously been resting on had been switched out for a regular pillow.

"Feeling a little better now?" Ben asked, once Alex's eyes finally fluttered open.

It took a moment for Alex to seem to focus, but eventually he nodded slightly. "Mmph... some?"

Ben chuckled slightly, running a hand over Alex's forehead. "How am I not surprised...?" He turned toward Blake. "He's still burning up."

"The medicine should be starting to work right about now." Blake said, putting the last of his things away. "It'll be a few more minutes before you'll be able to notice it."

"Do you need anything?" Ben asked.

Alex made a face, and shook his head.

"Water?"

A shake.

"You're sure?"

A nod and Alex resolutely shut his eyes. Ben knew better than to hope to get any more answers out of him. The mystery of _why_ he had had the seizure was going to stay as just that. A mystery. At least, until Alex was slightly back to normal.

And he probably wasn't even sure himself what had happened. The last time, Alex had explained days later, that the thoughts mainly running through his mind after a seizure were confusion. The inability to string together more than a few words in his mind, before losing his train of thought. And that was just in the first few minutes afterwards. It had gotten better as time went on, but Alex had said there was always the feeling that he was missing something in those early morning hours.

No doubt, he was experiencing those feelings all over again.

"Get some sleep, Alex. You'll start thinking in coherent sentences soon enough."

There was the slightest twitch to the corners of Alex's lips, indicating that he _might just_ smile if he had actually been feeling like it. Blake nodded toward the door, gesturing that he wanted to talk to Ben alone. Ben pulled the blankets up around Alex, ruffling his hair, before turning to follow Blake out.

"Don't... leave..."

Ben glanced back to see Alex looking at him with pleading eyes. It was probably the closest Ben would ever hear Alex to admitting that he might just have some sort of insecurity. "It's okay. I'll be back soon. Blake just wants to talk to me. Go to sleep, Alex."

Alex wavered slightly, before closing his eyes again and pulling the blankets tight. Ben flicked the lights off in the room, and closed the door slightly. Blake walked down the hall a ways, until they were both sure that they were out of hearing range.

"It's like looking at a totally different kid..." Blake shook his head slightly. "It really makes you feel sorry for him."

"He's been through a lot. And this really _wasn't_ supposed to happen." He fixed Blake with a gaze. "Any ideas why it did?"

"Stress?" Blake shrugged. "It could be pretty much anything. Especially since he has a fever. He could have forgotten to take the medicine when he should have. Or something about his sickness messed with his tolerance levels. To really know, we'd have to find out the levels of the medicine in his blood stream."

"Wouldn't it be best to test that sooner, rather than later?"

"Already got a blood sample. I'll send it off as soon as someone's heading into London." Blake glanced back at the door to Alex's room. "I think it would be best if we got that doctor to take a look at him. Either tonight or tomorrow. He'll have the training for something like this, and might have some insights into what happened. Or at least _why_ it happened _now_."

_That might actually be a good idea..._ Ben nodded absently. Some professional insight would probably help them greatly, and possibly make the chances of something recurring that much less. He had no wish to see Alex pulling through multiple seizures again. It was hard on him, and it was hard on anyone else caught up in the mess as well.

"I'm going to sit with him tonight. If he needs anything..."

Blake sent him a knowing smile, and turned to head down the stairs. "I'll make sure you get some food then. I don't think I _want_ to know when the last time you had a decent meal was."

* * *

><p>Alex had woken up at one hour intervals over the course of the evening. In the span of minutes that Alex had been awake, not only had Ben not gotten any answers from him, but Alex had also refused all manner of food or water. Like the very idea repulsed him. It was an odd turn, and had Ben wondering if there was more than just embarrassment in Alex's secrecy.<p>

It was nearing midnight—more than six hours since the seizure—and though he hadn't gotten any solid evidence from Alex, Blake was forming more and more suspicions. As it was, when the Dr. Sayer finally showed up—having determined that it was pointless to wait until the morning if Alex was sleeping on and off anyway—nearly _everyone_ was looking forward to possibly getting some answers.

The part Ben liked the least though, was Dr. Sayer's insistence that he needed to see _his patient_ privately. Sure, he could understand keeping it private from the prying eyes of everyone else in the household, but it included _private_ from Alex's current unofficial guardian.

But apparently, Dr. Sayer _knew best_. That didn't mean Ben had to like it thought.

Ben had made it clear, just in case there was some sort of backlash effect from Alex, that he had absolutely _rejected_ the idea. He didn't like the fact that they were leaving Alex alone with someone he barely knew—even if Ben already trusted the person with his life.

So, Ben found himself waiting in the kitchen—being all but force fed by Blake—waiting for news from the doctor. He doubted that they would find anything groundbreaking, but Blake had explained how Sayer had trumped Alex verbally within a matter of minutes the first time they met. There was a small chance...

It was more than half an hour before the doctor came back down, and by then, Ben had abandoned all pretenses of sitting calmly and waiting. He wanted to do... _something_. Anything, really, if it helped Alex.

"I think I was able to get a gist of an idea of what happened." Dr. Sayer said, taking a cup of tea from Blake gratefully. Ben had to admit that the doctor looked rather weary, and had probably been working since early that morning. "It took a while to get him to talk, but eventually he said that he started feeling sick two days ago. The nausea didn't start until yesterday evening though."

Ben felt himself pale considerably, knowing _exactly_ where the doctor was going with that.

"I don't think it occurred to him that not being able to keep anything down would wreck havoc with his medicine levels. And on top of all that, he forgot to take the medicine this morning as well." Dr. Sayer frowned slightly. "Everything building up over the past few days just seems to have pushed him over the tolerance level. He should have some sort of leeway with taking the medicine, but each person is different. Between the stress, tiredness—suggesting to me that he hasn't been sleeping well for the past few nights—sickness, and inadequate medicine, it's not too surprising that _something_ happened. It's just a shame it has to be now, when he's been seizure free for so many months."

"Do you know why he got sick?" Ben asked.

Dr. Sayer shrugged. "A stomach bug, most likely. It's hard to tell for sure, but it should clear up within the next twenty-four hours or so. I gave him something that would help him at least keep water down, or he'd be starting to get dehydrated soon. The fever might not clear up right away though, since it's possible that he's picked up something else in the process. Really though, it's not what worries me the most."

There was something about the way that he said it, that caught Ben's attention, and the significant glance at all the _extra_ people in the room showed that he wasn't ready to break the patient-confidentiality barrier with just _anyone_.

Blake seemed to realize that about the same time Sebastian did, and between the two of them, they were able to clear out the kitchen within a matter of moments. Ben wasn't sure whether to be disturbed, or thankful.

Dr. Sayer fixed Ben with a stare. "How long have you been living with Alex?"

Ben thought for a moment, adding up the months. "Four, five months?"

"And he worked with two others here in the months before then, correct?"

Ben nodded, wondering where the doctor was going with it.

"So you—and the others, if they were privy to this conversation—are fairly well acquainted with him. Enough, that you could, if asked, detect some changes in his personality from day to day. Probably right now, you could even tell me of the changes between now and when you saw him last."

Ben shrugged. It wasn't exactly impossible to do. It was easy when he had spent a great deal of time around a certain person. Anyone—who cared, that is—could do it. Did it without really registering it, most of the time.

"Then surely you've seen the signs."

Ben raised an eyebrow. That was a suspiciously vague statement. "Signs of... _what_, exactly?"

The doctor frowned. "Alex has mental health problems. And frankly, they're not exactly minor." Dr. Sayer raised his hands to keep Ben from saying anything. "I'm not saying that because I think he needs to be locked up in some mental facility, before he can hurt himself or others—I'm saying that because realizing the severity of the problem is one of the first steps to treating it. I've reviewed the reports on his bouts with the psychologists in California, and I personally think that that was one of the worst moves made with his healthcare. Aside from the obvious, of course..."

Ben wondered what _the obvious_ was... was he implying that Alex's previous—or current—healthcare was substandard? Then again, there was the fact that there were no signs of any psychological treatment until after Alex had _retired_. With a year and a half of missions already dragging him down—along with the death of his only perceived friend and guardian.

"An unwilling patient makes any job hard, and simply piling diagnoses onto him didn't help anything. Not that some of them were very far off the mark..."

Ben bristled slightly, remembering what Alex had told him. And now this doctor was _agreeing_ with them? "_What_?"

"PTSD, for one."

Well... _that_ one was clear.

"There were signs, of course, months earlier, but no one saw fit to actually think about the psychological health of such a young and impressionable mind." Dr. Sayer shook his head, and Ben was surprised that they had found another supporter in the most unlikely of areas. Someone directly from MI6's influence and control...

If Mrs. Jones had been trying to control the situation, for future use of Alex in any way, she had already made a number of irrevocable mistakes. Ben wondered just what Alex would make of that... was it clear evidence that Mrs. Jones had no intention of using Alex again? Or was it, as Alex had said so many weeks earlier, simply another ploy to lull Alex into a false sense of security, before using him to save the world? Ben was leaning toward the former.

He wanted to believe that Mrs. Jones had learned—perhaps that hard way, as far as Alex was concerned—that using teenagers just wasn't the moral way to do things. It didn't work.

"—he's depressed."

Ben stared at the doctor. "Depressed."

"I'm sure you've noticed his up and down moods over the past few months. Sometimes it seems like everything's going well, and then something happens, and he'll go downhill again. I'm guessing that the changes in moods are clearer since he came here. He doesn't strike me as the type of person to enjoy change in any form, especially not when it brings him back under MI6's wing."

As Ben had yet to hear the doctor directly reference MI6, he _had_ had doubts that the man knew who he was _really_ working for. It seemed that he did though. And he seemed to understand Alex's dislike for the company.

"I met him at the end of one of the upswings, and now he's at the bottom again. These mood swings can last different lengths of times—days to weeks to months in severe cases—and this one I don't think will be as easy for you to pull him out of. He's honestly afraid to trust anyone or anything, and when I talked to him, it was clear that his self-worth was out the window." He put a calming hand on Ben's shoulder, to keep him from jumping up to check on Alex and make sure he hadn't done anything stupid. "I gave him something to help him sleep—with his consent, of course—before I came down. He's in another nightmare cycle."

Ben gritted his teeth. Of course there were more nightmares as soon as he left. And Alex being typical, had probably refused to acknowledge their existence to anyone outside of his room. _No one else_ knew that he had even been having nightmares again.

"What the two of you were doing, working through the nightmares together, was probably one of the most ingenious ways to get him to open up about some things. He needed a reliable person to trust, and he turned to you. Unfortunately, as these past few weeks have shown, he hasn't accepted anyone else enough to at least _tell_ them he wasn't feeling well—much less, to tell them about the nightmares."

"But what can I _do_? I can't force him to do something about it when I'm not even around."

The doctor nodded slowly, sipping at his neglected tea.

Ben couldn't help but wonder if that was what Alex felt like when they were just sitting at the table. Awkward, unsure, but desperate for... something.

"Obviously, MI6 isn't going to pull you off of missions for the sake of keeping Alex from getting hurt—especially if, as I suspect, it has something to do with _protecting_ him in the first place."

Ben gaped at the man. There was no way he could have known that, yet he did.

"You don't get to be working for MI5 and MI6 without being a bit of a prodigy." Dr. Sayer pointed out with a hint of a smirk. "And it doesn't take a genius to figure out that the only reason they would send you out into the field—when you're supposed to be in protective custody—is if there was something only _you_ could do. And then, it would likely relate to the reason you're here in the first place. Alex."

Ben nodded slightly, still somewhat surprised.

"What you really need to worry about though, is the fact that Alex has _history_ with everyone present in this house—aside from the one SAS soldier. Even then, his mind lumps _SAS_ with a previous experience. _History_ isn't something he's going to get over in a matter of days, much less weeks. And if MI6 sends you out again anytime soon, he will once again be on his own and risking another seizure. He needs someone that he, at the very least, trusts to give him medicine when you're not around. For some reason or another, without the reminder that _he does_ have access to medicine that will help him sleep, he forgets. That forgetting was the base of all our problems today."

Ben chewed on his lip. The problem was—Alex didn't trust anyone currently in the house. And Alex didn't seem to trust anyone else in the world. The closest he had gotten to trusting someone else was... _Would_ that work? Or would Alex merely fly off the handle at the suggestion?

Dr. Sayer nodded knowingly. "That at the very least would keep him from slipping too far into his depression. Someone to remind him. You know him better than I do, and might have some ideas of _who_ would work though. I can only make suggestions."

Ben nodded. "I _might_ know. But... it might take a few days."

"I'll be sure to make the _strong suggestion_ that they don't send you out for at least the next week, so Alex can get his feet back underneath him. They seem determined to keep him alive, so I think they'll let it be. See what you can work out." Dr. Sayer picked up the now empty tea cup, and placed it near the sink. "If Alex hasn't started eating by tomorrow evening, call me again. There could always be something more going on than first meets the eye."

Once he had seen the doctor out, with Micah as a driver, Ben headed upstairs to check in on Alex. As soon as he was there, he did away with any thoughts of going back downstairs, and sat down beside the bed. Alex's face was pale, as usual after a seizure, but there was a slight tinge that told Ben he still had a low fever. Not a raging one, like before, but enough to cause concern if it went on for too long.

The next few days were going to be rather... interesting. Alex wasn't going to want to talk about anything, he was most likely going to be _mad_ at Ben, and they were dealing with not only a nightmare this time, but after effects of the seizure, _and_ depression.

Sometimes Ben felt like he should just start studying psychology. He'd have half the degree already...

"Ben?"

Ben glanced up, a smile crossing his face as he saw that Alex was awake. Barely, but awake.

"Didn't... leave?"

"Nah... I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh..."

He surveyed Alex from head to toe, taking in the tightly wrapped blankets, the bandaged arm, and all over pale pallor. "_Are_ you feeling okay?"

"'m tired."

"Yeah. Not surprising, that."

Alex almost smiled.

"You should drink some water, or you're going to get dehydrated on me. And believe me, it's not fun."

Alex's eyes fluttered shut. "'m not... thirsty."

"How about you humor me? Just a little bit, that's all I'm asking. Or do I need to go get Blake to help me?"

Alex's eyes immediately flew open, looking panicky. "No, don't... please. Please don't leave. I'll... I'll drink some."

Ben was slightly puzzled by the reaction, but placed a calming hand on Alex's shoulder. For now, it was best to reassure him. "I won't leave..." He helped Alex sit up slightly, and drink down about a fourth of the water in the cup by the bed. It wasn't much, but at least it was a start. "There, now you can go to sleep. Or do you want more?"

Alex shook his head.

"Okay, but when you wake up, you'll get some more."

Alex nodded slightly, before gripping the blankets tightly. Ben barely heard Alex's whisper, but it shocked him once again.

"_Please don't leave me..._"

Ben leaned over and ran a soothing hand through Alex's hair. "I won't. Don't worry. Sleep, Alex."

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: (_HEY LOOK! THIS IS AN AMAZINGLY EPIC UPDATE FROM ALASKA! (Yes, I am still thinking of you guys) Thank the rain that you're getting an update, or I'd be camping right now instead of being inside a toasty warm inn.)_**

**You have no idea how long it took me to finish writing this. And I didn't even kill Ben! Honestly, I'm not sure if I _could_ kill Ben... he's probably one of my favorites. I'm actually starting to like Dr. Sayer a lot, even though he's a really minor character...**

**Who do you think the person is that Ben thought of while talking to Dr. Sayer? I don't think it's really _that much_ of a secret, but I'm interested to see how many of you recognize all the hints. I'm sure most of you will get it...**

**So, on that note, _Mystery POV_ will be the next chapter! And it will be fun. I think (I hope) you guys will like and enjoy the change of pace and whatnot. The breath of fresh air, hearing from someone else's mind. *grins***

**Reviews are amazing, and just remember, July 22 is the magic date!**

**S.B.L.**

**A/N2: Updated July 13th. Changed the length of Ben's MIA period, so it actually matches up with what I had written in previous chapters... _oops_. And fixed some minor grammatical errors.  
><strong>


	27. Secrets

**Disclaimer:**_ I'm a poor university student. Do you _really_ think I own Alex Rider?_

_Didn't think so...  
><em>

_**Previously...**_

_Ben barely heard Alex's whisper, but it shocked him once again._

"_Please don't leave me..."_

_Ben leaned over and ran a soothing hand through Alex's hair. "I won't. Don't worry. Sleep, Alex."_

_It was going to be a long night._

**CHAPTER 27: Secrets**

* * *

><p>He sorted through the assorted keys on the ring, looking for just the right one. It had to be there somewhere... after all; he <em>knew<em> hadn't given it back more than a month earlier. Accidentally, of course. He doubted that anyone had even missed it though. And now, who was he to squander a perfectly good opportunity to check up on big brother for Mum?

Ben had been out of contact ever since the somewhat tense homecoming in March—and he hadn't actually spoken to their parents since mid-February. It wasn't out of the ordinary as far as Ben was concerned. After all, he had routinely dropped out of the country and out of contact for weeks on end over the past year or so—but now that he supposedly had a job pinned down, it seemed that their mum had become worried about him disappearing off the face of the earth. Wanted to make sure something hadn't happened...

When Ben was concerned, _something happening_ was entirely possible.

_Ah, there it is._ He slipped the key into the lock and turned it.

He wasn't complaining about being back in London for a while, especially since his days were usually filled with near boring monotony. He hadn't realized that being out of school could be so... _lifeless_. A number of days in London were just what he had needed to get a little more enthusiasm back. His old flatmates had been more than happy to have him show up for a visit, but that could only last for so long. Now he was hoping to be able to catch a night with Ben to satisfy his mother's curiosity, before heading back to Liverpool for the umpteenth time that spring.

The door opened with a squeal—which struck Luke as odd. It was _Ben's_ flat, after all. Silence and smoothness was just part of his character, something that had always blended over into wherever he lived. Maybe Ben's job was getting in the way of upkeep...

Luke wondered if Alec was still around, or if he had moved on. It seemed that Alec had a hand in keeping the flat from disintegrating recently. He had always wondered why Ben was so against sharing a flat... but Alec had apparently fit whatever unspoken requirements he had. And it had turned out to be a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Of course, that didn't mean that _Alec_ was still there...

"Hello?" Luke called out into the flat, hoping to see some sign of life. There wasn't so much as a sound, aside from his echoing voice. Ben _should've_ been home by then... _if_ he was coming home, of course. Something about the way things were laid out though, suggested that someone had planned to come back.

He headed down the hall, taking a quick glance around Ben's room. There wasn't a noticeable amount of clothing missing, but something about it just seemed _off_ to Luke. The books on the table were haphazardly strewn, but the bed was immaculately made.

Humming quietly to himself—he couldn't _stand_ silent rooms—he headed into Alec's room. He hesitated long enough outside the door to make sure that Alec wouldn't actually be there. He had never trespassed _into_ the room before... and there had been some unwritten rule that crossing that line would mean Alec would lash out. Not something he had wanted.

There was something slightly unsettling about Alec in general though. Not that he had ever said anything to Ben. That would have been a death sentence... Luke was just about to investigate the inventory of Alec's closet—and the odd stain that seemed to cover the floor beside it—when the last thing he expected, happened.

The front door slammed opened, as if someone had broken it down.

Luke stared in the direction of the noise, already making out the sound of multiple footsteps across the floor. Multiple, _heavy_, footsteps that were quickly making their way closer and closer. Something told Luke that he really _didn't_ want to be present when the footsteps entered the room.

Because he sure as hell knew that it wasn't Ben.

Unfortunately, there wasn't anywhere to hide. The closet was still shut, and he had no doubt that if he tried to hide in there, whoever was out there would know that someone was in the flat. The best he could do was back closer to the wall and hope that by some chance of fortune, they'd ignore the room he was currently in.

"Find him!"

Luke cringed, and pressed himself against the wall. _Of course they wouldn't miss..._

The door to the room slammed open, and Luke could have sworn that he saw his life flash before his eyes—twice. Three, large, men were standing in the entrance, with guns pointed directly at his chest.

_T__hey knew I was here..._

Before he knew what was happening, one of the men had shot him in the stomach, twisted his arms around, and pressed his face up against the floor. The blackness was already starting to creep in on the edges, as he heard people calling around him that they had '_found him_.'

_That_ didn't matter to him though. The only thought he had before slumping into the blackness, was that Ben had lied. Getting shot didn't hurt _that_ much...

* * *

><p>He really wasn't sure what to think anymore.<p>

Had the police been taken over by terrorists?

Had Ben gotten mixed up in something he shouldn't have?

Why the hell had the police _shot_ him? _How had he survived?_

Was he just hallucinating?

And why the hell was he handcuffed to a sturdy metal table that wouldn't move no matter how much he tried?

When he had first woken up, it was to an empty room. He had quickly found that the range of motion allowed by the handcuffs was extremely limited. He couldn't have gotten up, even _if_ his extremities hadn't felt like lead weights. As it was, he highly doubted that he was going to be in there for a short amount of time.

And hours passed.

He refused to acknowledge the camera in the corner, not wanting to even _think_ about what it could mean. For all he knew, leftist terrorists, masquerading as the police, had kidnapped him, and were holding him for ransom since he was the family member of a civil servant. Would the higher ups even care, though...? He was _no one_. His brother was probably _no one_ as well...

There were no signs that what had happened was legal in any way. No signs that the short glimpse he had got of their uniforms was not a cleverly made fake—not that he had ever been near enough to know what a _true_ uniform looked like. Though he had never had any direct contact with the police, Luke had a suspicion that this _was not_ the normal way for dealing with what could be considered someone breaking and entering. Not that he had _broken_ in... He had a _key_ for goodness sake!

After what felt like days of being alone, a man entered the room, carrying a thick file. Just the appearance of the man made Luke want to draw back into his solitude again. He had an air about him that Luke would have bet would make the most hardened of criminals shrivel in fear. Much less someone who had never put a toe across the line before...

"Luke William Mitchelson-Daniels."

Luke couldn't stop the flinch, before steeling himself. _So what if they know my full name...?_ Surely, they would have done the research to find _that_ out. It wasn't exactly a secret, after all.

"I'm sure you know why you're here. Care to explain your actions?"

"What?" Luke blinked at the man. Did they expect him to be psychic or something? "_Why_ am I here?"

The officer—for Luke was all but certain he really was part of the police force—glared at Luke. "Let's not make this difficult, Mr. Daniels. You returned to the scene of the crime. Were you, perhaps, hoping to plant some evidence to turn away the suspicions on yourself?"

_Scene of the crime..__.? _"What? Suspicions? What's going on? I _demand_ to know why I am being held!"

"You, Mr. Daniels, were caught returning to the scene of Alec Pierre's murder at 5 Tilney St."

Luke felt his heart stutter, and was sure it was going to stop. "Mur-mur-murder?"

"Murder, Mr. Daniels. Not something to be taken lightly."

_Alec was __murdered_? "B-but, _how_? I-I mean, he..." He had only seen Alec a month earlier. He had been fine then... reserved and quiet, yes... But he had always been like that. Ben had made it clear before Luke had agreed to stay with Alec, that Alec was a private person and didn't take kindly to someone trying to figure him out. Luke had left it at that, and let Alec be. "Wh-why would someone want him dead?"

The office fixed him with a stare. "Jealousy, perhaps? He was living with your brother, was he not? You're still living with your parents, ever since your accident in December. He's been with your brother since then."

"What? _No_!" It wasn't very hard for him to catch onto _those_ implications. Luke all but jerked back in his chair, astounded at the accusation sent toward him. "I haven't seen him since March! I-I wouldn't _kill_ him!"

"Would you?" The officer opened a file, and pushed a grainy picture across the table. "We have evidence here that proves that you know how to handle the murder weapon."

Luke immediately recognized the hazy background of the shooting range that Ben had taken him to for his eighteenth birthday. "Tha-that was at a shooting range."

The officer pushed over another sheet, this time detailing a bank statement. "In August, your bank account started receiving anonymous funds, from an account that we've been able to trace back to Switzerland." He fixed Luke with a stare. "I can understand that paying for university can be costly, but resorting to working as an assassin was just a bad career choice."

The man pushed another photograph across the table, and Luke blanched. He didn't _remember_ anything like that. He had _never_ carried a gun outside of the shooting range, which he did admit to himself to have visited once or twice since Ben had taken him there. But _always_ with friends...

But this was seemingly clear evidence that Luke—or someone that looked scarily identical to him—had had a gun in some back alleyway of a major city. The officer leaned up against the edge of the table, piercing Luke with his gaze.

"You were seen meeting with Antony Bacardi, crime boss outside of London, on multiple occasions." He pushed another photo in Luke's direction, this time of a gruff man whose appearance just _screamed_ 'keep away,' and 'danger'. "The two of you met at _The Emerald Badger_ on the weekends to discuss your next assignment. We have _proof_ from both the bartenders and the cook that you were there. You were given the assignment in November to take out Pierre before he could take over your section of town."

_Assignment? To kill Alec? Take over..._ They were trying to say that Alec was an _assassin_? Had he somehow stepped into an alternate reality? It happened all the time in the movies, after all... that was the only explanation. It had to be. Why else would someone accuse _him_ of being an assassin, and then tell him, point-blank, that he had killed just because another assassin—Alec, of all people—was trying to take over his home turf. "You're crazy."

The officer glared at him. Not normally the wisest thing to say when imprisoned. "I'm sure your tongue will loosen itself. Eventually..."

Luke gulped, and the office sent another fierce glare in his direction, before leaving the table, and heading toward the door. He left the _evidence_ on the table, in full view of Luke, but he couldn't quite reach... It was mocking him, really.

Luke slumped in his chair the moment the door shut with a resounding clang. Changing realities always seemed cooler in the movies...

* * *

><p>Sense of time was completely nonexistent. Luke had no idea how long he had been held captive. How long it had been since he had had a decent drink of water. A decent amount of food. He wasn't starving—<em>y<em>_et_—but then, he hadn't been there for _too_ long. It seemed that they had to follow some laws.

But what about the right to some legal explanation? The right to know just what the hell was going on and why the hell they were charging him with _murder_? They didn't seem to care about _those_ rights. And something told Luke that he wasn't exactly going to get a chance to complain about it...

He had long since decided that his outlandish theory of falling into a different reality was completely impossible. There were too many similarities. The only difference was that everyone seemed to think that Luke was an assassin, and that Alec had come from France to... do _something_.

It was all _bogus_.

Multiple officers had questioned him, multiple times they had tried to pin the accusation on him, tried to get him to confess, and multiple times it had been made clear that they didn't yet have solid proof that _he_ was the murderer. Luke was scared out of his wits, yes, but nothing they said was going to sway his knowledge that he was innocent. No matter how much evidence they had—and he just couldn't see how Alec could be an assassin. He didn't have it in him.

"Mr. Daniels, you are in a very serious situation here." The latest officer had yet to show any evidence, and seemed to be attempting to tug on Luke's perceived connections. Perceived connections with a crime boss that he had _never heard of_. They wanted information from him... "We might be able to cut you a deal. If you cooperate."

Luke swallowed nervously. He couldn't do anything aside from attempting to loudly proclaim his innocence. There was no way he could give them what they wanted, because he just _didn't know_. And no matter what they said, the thought that someone Ben trusted and counted as a friend could be an assassin was just plain crazy.

"Who called out the original hit on Alec Pierre? Bacardi wasn't the first to set eyes on him. Why were _you_ told to target Pierre? Give us names, and we might be able to work something out. Decrease your eventual sentence."

Luke glared at the table. "I can't give you names, because I don't know them in the first place!"

The man slammed his hands down on the table, making Luke jerk back in surprise. "There's no use hiding it. The facts are here, as plain as day. You started working for Antony Bacardi over the summer, taking hits to pay your university bills. We have clear evidence that you're capable of using the murder weapon—_w__ith skill_, I might add. The hit was given to you at the end of November, and since your first attempt didn't work, you had to try again." The man sneered at him. "What was it like, having to share a room with your target in the hospital and not being able to do anything about it?"

Luke's eye opened wide in panic. They were tying _everything_ in with this horror story. "I didn't do anything! I didn't meet Alec until we were both in the hospital!"

The officer leaned back in his chair, and opened the file that he had so far left alone. "Do you, or do you not, own a silver Mazda?"

Luke fidgeted. "Yes..."

"And do you deny that you were out early on the morning of December the second, near Hammersmith?"

"N-no..." He didn't like where this was going.

"So you don't deny that you were responsible for the hit and run on Alec Pierre."

Luke's jaw dropped. "What? No!" How _could_ they? "That couldn't have been me! I've never hit a person in my life. It's not something I would forget!"

"You were caught on a speed camera minutes later just a few blocks away. And a silver Mazda hit Pierre. Does that not point directly at you?"

Luke swallowed hard. "I-it's a lie. I didn't do it. I-I would never..."

"Who are you to question us? As far as I see, _you're_ the one being held for questioning on illegal activities. And _you're_ the one that is a fairly certain murder suspect." The officer stood up from the table. "We have everything on tape. Consider your options well, Mr. Daniels."

Luke was sure he had already been held long past the twenty-four hour limit. And it seemed that they were determined to pin the blame on him. It didn't make sense... they were the police. Protecting innocents and whatnot. Here he was, _an innocent_, being accused of _such atrocity_...

One thing was for sure. He wasn't getting out any time soon.

* * *

><p>The video repeated over and over again, ingraining the images into his mind. Luke wanted them to stop... There was no doubt that the figure had to be Alec, and that the accident he had been involved in was downright horrific. The car had barely even stopped after hitting him, leaving Alec to lie on the pavement while other pedestrians rushed to his side.<p>

Then the clip started over again, with Alec jogging and heading into the seemingly clear street, only to get hit. It made Luke sick to think that they were trying to pin the blame on him. He would never be able to do that—accident, _murder attempt_, or not—to a person and live with himself afterwards. Especially not if said person ended up being a friend of Ben's.

"I didn't have anything to do with that! _I swear!_"

The newest officer stared at him with a stony gaze, before hitting the pause button, just before Alec started running across the street again. "We have the evidence. Admit your guilt and cooperate with us, and we might be able to shorten your sentence. Or you'll find that you're serving 30 years, or more, for murder."

The way they were handling things though, they were going to make him serve more time than he deserved _no matter what_. "It wasn't me!" Couldn't any of them see reason? "I didn't do that, and I didn't kill Alec either!"

"We have clear evidence that you were in the area the night of Pierre's accident. DNA traces were found on the front of your car—"

Luke choked. "_What_?"

"—and three witnesses prove that you were in the area. CCTV also confirms that you were in London the evening of March 18. You don't happen to have an alibi for the hours of ten thru two, do you?"

It was asked in a mocking tone, and Luke cringed. That had just been a few days after Ben had gotten back from his trip. He had spent a few days with his old flatmates, and then had left late on the 18th to make it back to Liverpool. Hoping to make it home before the 19th for a job interview in the morning... the one night he needed a decent amount of sleep. But he had left late. Just after ten. And due to an accident on the road, and changing his route, he hadn't seen a single person until well after four am at his home.

Unexpectedly, the door to the room swung open and a nondescript man walked in. "I'll take it from here, Detective Inspector." The detective nodded once, before leaving. The nondescript man sat down in the chair across from Luke. "Hello Luke."

The familiarity that the man said it with threw Luke off balance.

"I'm sure this is all quite the ordeal for you." The man smiled slightly, and Luke wondered what they were trying to gain with this now. _Good-cop, bad-cop?_ "But I'll give you a few pointers while I'm here. Consider this your _free legal advice_. When you started talking, it gave them an opening to start pinning accusations on you. Of course, if it had been anyone but the police interrogating you..." The man trailed off, going into a contemplative silence.

Luke stared at the man. "_What?_"

The man seemed to come back to himself, sending another somewhat unnerving smile in Luke's direction. "The worst thing you did was show personal investment in the victim. Anyone could take that and twist it until you didn't recognize it. You _did_ manage to show that you wouldn't believe everything others tell you though. A very good thing." He shrugged slightly. "Not that you're trained for this... it's just something you might want to remember if you ever find yourself in some sort of interrogation again."

Luke stared at the man. "You're suggesting this might happen _again_?"

The man smiled understandingly. "If you're lucky, no. But then, you never know what life will throw at you."

Luke twitched. The man unnerved him, and knew it. "Who are you?"

"I've gone by a number of names, but I think you deserve to know the real one. Andrew Levendis, MI5."

Luke nodded as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Like he had completely expected it. _Not_. A spy. The man was a_ spy_. And here _Luke_ had been accused of murder, only minutes earlier... now he was meeting a _spy_.

"I'm sure this is all very confusing to you, but certain higher ups had to clear you first." Levendis pulled a paper out of his jacket and slid it across the table toward Luke. He nearly flinched away when a pen hit the table as well. "Please sign at the bottom and understand that we can—and will—make your life a living hell if you don't cooperate." There was a distinctly threatening note to his voice that hadn't been there earlier.

Luke gulped, and glanced over the paper, his eyes widening as he realized just what it was. "This is the Official Secrets Act!"

Levendis raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Oh really? Silly me, I thought it was your confession. Oh well, you might as well sign this one then."

Something about his demeanor told Luke that if he didn't sign, his life was going to just get worse. So, after reading through it twice and not finding anything out of sorts, Luke signed it.

As soon as he finished, Levendis pulled the paper away, scanned it quickly, and nodded slightly. "Good. Remember, you break this—we will destroy you. Daniels, he's all yours!"

Luke flinched again, as Levendis exited and another unknown entered the room. As soon as he recognized the person though, his demeanor changed completely. "I didn't do it Ben, I swear I didn't! You've got to believe me!"

Ben took the seat that Levendis had been sitting in. "It's okay Luke, I believe you."

"I didn't! It's all some sort of misunderstanding. I could never kill someone! Especially not Alec!"

"I know, just calm dow—"

"I'd never want him dead! Someone set me up. I don't know why, but they did. You've got to believe me!"

"Yes, someone set you up."

"I'd never—wait, what?"

Ben glared at him. "Luke, shut up."

Luke shut his jaw with a snap, staring warily at his brother.

"Thank you." Ben sighed. "Now, if you promise not to physically attack me, I'll let you out of those handcuffs."

Luke nodded meekly. Ben pulled out a key from his pocket, and unlocked the handcuffs, leaving Luke to rub at the chafed skin. "What's going on?"

Ben sat back in his chair and surveyed Luke, with an expression of regret. "I'm sorry it had to be done this way, but there really wasn't any other option. My employers needed a way to confirm your... _suitability_ for this particular job. Think of it as half a psych evaluation and job interview. And we couldn't run it through the normal channels since your appearance needs to be secret."

Luke had missed half of what Ben was saying, and only caught onto one part. "Job?"

Ben smirked. "Think of it as a temporary assignment with _MI6_."

Luke's breath caught in his throat. "M-MI6? M-me?" _Employers... job... normal channels... __psych evaluation... interview... __secret... MI6..._ His eyes widened substantially. "You... you're a _spy_!"

Ben grinned. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that. I'd have told you sooner, but... telling family members—aside from spouses—is normally restricted to emergencies. This, though urgent, is not an emergency, but they still needed to test you. I'll admit— someone had quite the fun thinking up a wild scenario like this."

"So, Alec really isn't dead?"

"No."

Luke relaxed visibly. "Oh, thank goodness."

"Normally the process isn't this extreme, but we're working on limited time. The Company sends their apologies, but they needed to make sure you weren't influenced easily and had... _best interests_ at heart."

"Wh-why?" Having the attention of MI6—and MI5—wasn't something Luke had ever aspired for. Sure, he had had his childhood moment when he wanted nothing more than to be the next James Bond, but that had been a passing phase.

"Luke, there are some things that happen to people that makes it hard for them to trust. Sometimes it will go so far as to mean that they'd rather die than trust another person. You know Alec; you've seen how cautious and reserved he is all the time... he doesn't trust easy. I told you that before."

Luke nodded. It had been right after Alec's first seizure. Ben and Alec had argued about something, and it wasn't until later that day that Luke had heard them talking civilly again. Even then, tension had been high right up until the day before Christmas. And then while they stayed in the flat... it had been clear that Alec had only a marginal amount of trust toward Luke.

"Alec's the reason we need your help."

Luke sighed and sat back in his chair. "Why? Why me specifically? And why should I do this? Not that I'm complaining or anything..."

"You, because you already know Alec, and he has a minuscule amount of trust in you. MI6 can't keep me out of the field just because Alec won't trust anyone they put him with. They're trying to keep him safe, but they need me in the field to gather information."

"What are they keeping him safe from?"

"Two terrorist groups that want him dead because of who his parents were. It's complicated, and classified, so I really can't tell you any more than that."

Luke swore under his breath. "So December... was that—"

"No, it wasn't. It was a true accident. As far as we—and everyone else—knew, Alec had died in the Heathrow Bombing. We probably would have never known if he hadn't gotten hit, and I hadn't been visiting you at just the right time."

Luke felt like his mind was running a couple thousand light-years a minute, trying to keep up with all the sudden changes that were being thrown at him. "So... I take it, he's not really French."

Ben frowned slightly. "No, he's British. And before you ask, no, he's not eighteen, and his name's not really Alec."

"Er... he's not? It's not?"

"For simplicities sake, he'll continue to go by Alec. You're not cleared to know his real name—though you might when this is all over. Consider what Levendis said as a gift—he didn't give you a fake name. Agents don't normally do that, especially with people they've only met once. And Alec is sixteen."

"Six... _sixteen_? You're kidding, right?" He had to be. There was no way that a sixteen year old had pulled off acting eighteen...

"No, I'm not kidding." Ben's frown increased, before his gaze snapped back to Luke. "This won't be a one day job. It will go on for weeks, and most likely, months."

Luke nodded. He had already figured that it wouldn't be short term.

"Alec and two other agents are being held in a safe house, and have been for the past month. A SAS team is protecting them from outside threats, and _generally_ keeping the place under control. But I was gone for two weeks—pulled for a mission to get information on the group after Alec—and came back to find Alec worse than I left him." The frown returned, and Luke could tell that Ben was genuinely concerned for Alec. "He didn't trust anyone in the safe house enough to admit that he was sick—much less that he was having nightmares again. He had _history_ with everyone else, so it's really not too surprising that he doesn't trust them..." He trailed off, the frown increasing.

"But what can _I_ do? He doesn't talk to me. At least, not about the nightmares."

"But he took the medicine when he needed it. You at least _knew_ when he was having a nightmare. He didn't hide everything from you." Ben sighed. "Listen, Alec's been through a lot in the past couple of years and... there've been a lot of traumatic experiences. Sometimes he just—I don't know—_forgets_ why he needs to keep trying so hard to stay afloat. The doctor he just recently started seeing, thinks he's depressed, and there's good reason too. We're hoping that if someone can keep an eye on him, and not have to worry about watching for outside threats as well, he might open up a little, or at least trust them enough that he'll allow them to help when he needs it."

Luke knew he had seen bits and pieces of Alec's depression both in the hospital and at the flat. But obviously, it wasn't the worst it could be. "So, I'd be... basically baby-sitting? Er... teen-sitting?"

A hint of a smile tugged at Ben's lips. "Somewhat." He shrugged. "It's a rather odd request, but you're the only person that I've seen Alec accept, even partially. Otherwise... I don't really know what we're going to do. MI6 needs me out in the field, gathering information to make the SAS's job easier, but I can't have Alec dying on me while I'm away."

Luke stared at the table, trying to collect his thoughts. Everything he had thought he had known was turned upside down. Ben was a spy. _Alec_ wasn't really _Alec_. _And_ he was sixteen. There was just something completely mind boggling about that. Something that Luke really, really, _really_ didn't want to think about. "What does Alec think of this?"

"I haven't talked to him about it. He's... been rather quiet over the past few days. He's getting better though." Ben grimaced. "He'll hate the idea. Especially when I have to go out again, but there's not much I can do. We need the information."

Luke nodded, decision made. "So when do I start?"

Ben stood up; gesturing toward the door that Luke had looked at for so many hours. His escape... "We can go now. You should probably contact Mum to make sure she doesn't worry. I called her when they grabbed you, so she wouldn't think something's up. You can tell her I found you a _job opportunity_." He opened the door, ushering Luke out. So far, it looked like a normal building. That just happened to have an interrogation room... "You've only been here for one night, though I bet it's felt a lot longer than that. Just remember, all that evidence they had could be real. Or well... real enough for a court. If you step out of line, or try to blow the whistle on something, they'll have you up for a lifetime of murder charges before you can't even _think_ of escaping the country. Or they'll throw you into a mental institution. _For life_."

Luke cringed. "So they'll ruin my life if I don't behave."

"Exactly." He waved his hand toward the walls surrounding them. "This was all real. As far as those officers know, this was a real to life training run, sponsored by MI5. They'll turn in their reports, and MI5 will gladly make sure that all this disappears. _But_, MI6 can and will do this if they have to. They take Alec's security very seriously." Ben stopped and seemed to pull open a random door, leading them into a brightly lit corridor. Luke had to stop himself from squinting in the lights, and was slightly surprised when Ben shoved a sweatshirt at him. "Put that on, and they won't bother us on our way out. Don't look upset; don't make eye contact, just follow right behind me. Levendis should be distracting them right now."

Luke nodded and followed Ben down the hall. It didn't take too long before they ran into other people, but no one even glanced twice at Luke. Like they _weren't_ supposed to notice him. When they reached the main area, Luke saw Levendis in the corner talking to the Detective Inspector, and barely picked up on the concealed hand signal the man sent toward Ben. Ben didn't make any sign that he had seen it, but Luke had a feeling he had.

Once they were outside, Ben sent a glance in Luke's direction, making it clear that he was to stay quiet. They walked two blocks before Ben turned suddenly, went to a seemingly random car, and all but shoved Luke inside. There was a bag on the front seat, and Ben rummaged through it, before tossing a mobile toward Luke.

"Call Mum, let her know you're okay, don't say anything about what's really going on, and tell her that I've found you a temporary job until university starts up again, then disassemble the phone, and put the pieces in this bag." Ben fixed Luke with a glare. "Say anything else, and I will personally see that MI6 ships you off to a country that no sane person has ever heard of. And believe me, that's for your _own_ protection."

Luke swallowed. If the knowledge that he all but had MI6 breathing down his neck didn't put some sort of fear in him, the knowledge that Ben _always_ carried through with his threats certainly did.

* * *

><p>It had taken them well over three hours to finally arrive at the safe house. They had stopped where Luke's car had been pulled, to pick up the few clothes he had with him, then Ben had run into a bank to make a withdrawal, and then they had taken a circuitous route in to the actual safe house.<p>

The safe house was large. Larger than anything Luke had had while growing up. But then, they had only been a family of four, and he and Ben had always shared a room. Here, there were at least eight—now nine—people staying in the one house. It had to be big enough to hold everyone comfortably.

The first glimpse he had gotten of Alec was completely disheartening. Alec had been asleep when Ben peeked into the room, and Luke had been shocked by what he saw. Though he had been surprised plenty that day, the condition Alec was in wasn't what he had thought it would be. He had at least thought that Alec would be _awake_ during the day.

Ben gave Luke a push down the hall to his room, and as soon as the door was shut, Luke turned on him. "What happened to him?" The last time, Alec had been quiet—but there had still been _life_ in him. Now, he was sickly looking, and if Luke had seen correctly, there was a bandage wrapped around his arm.

Ben leaned against the wall and sighed. "He had a seizure... three nights ago. I was gone right up until then, and somewhere in there, he got sick and didn't mention it to anyone. He missed his medicine a couple of times, so it was only a matter of time."

"And his arm?"

"He dropped a bunch of glass plates. Fell on them and cut his arm pretty badly when he had the seizure." Ben stood up, and moved toward his closet, making room for Luke's things. "This is the lowest I've seen him, but it all just snowballed on him. The seizure plus the sickness left him fairly wiped out. Hopefully, after another full night's sleep, he'll be back to normal. Mostly."

Luke chewed on his lip thoughtfully. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"Yeah..." Ben rubbed at the back of his neck, in an embarrassed and nervous manner. "Everything went to hell for him when he was fourteen. He wasn't ready for it. In the past two years, all his remaining family—and near family—have been killed. As far as he sees it—when he's in a depressive cycle—there's nothing left. I really don't want him losing hope."

Luke grinned. "So parental or brotherly?"

Ben mock shuddered. "He's what, nine years younger than me? I'm a little too young to have a teenage kid of my own. Definitely brotherly." He waved his hand toward the free space in the room. "We'll get a cot in here for you. It's only this room and Alec's on this half of the hall, so we have a bit of privacy. When I'm gone, you'll have to keep a close eye on Alec. The others here weren't really able to notice when he turned on to one of his '_downward swings_' as his doctor calls it."

Luke sighed and sat down on the bed. Spies. SAS soldiers. Terrorist organizations out to kill people. And, oh yeah, a _depressed teenager_. It was sounding less and less easy.

"We should probably go make sure everyone knows you're here. There are a few... trigger happy soldiers here that will shoot first and ask questions later if they see an unfamiliar face." Ben grinned. "Believe me when I say this place is almost as secure as a maximum security prison."

Luke laughed nervously. The last thing he wanted was for someone to mistakenly shoot him. It didn't take a genius to figure out that what he had gotten shot with hurt only a smidgen of what it really felt like. He had no wish to find out firsthand. His evening was going to be exciting enough as it was...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ****Whee, I'm back! ****I had so much fun writing this chapter****, and a couple of you actually managed to guess who it was. Though not many... ****Surprisingly, it's one of the few chapters ****I ****wanted to ****write when I first started this story. ****I wasn't quite sure **_**how**_** I was going to make it work... but I think it worked out pretty well. Yes?**

**Did you enjoy hearing from Luke? This is probably the only time we'll see from his perspective, but I think it was a rather refreshing change. It certainly was to write. Did I have any of you tricked into thinking that terrorists had captured Luke? If you have any questions about the interrogation whatnot, feel free to ask me. I tried to make it as clear as possible, but I fear that might not have been the case in some places...  
><strong>

**Regularly scheduled programming will resume next Sunday.**

**Also, there's an updated summary up above, so please, tell me what you think! I've been toying with the idea of changing it, and I got inspired the other day. So, if you have any suggestions or comments on that (or the rest of the story) please let me know!**

**I so glad you guys were happy that Ben was alive! Loved the reactions. Reviews, as always, are highly appreciated!**

**Until next week,**

**S.B.L.**


	28. Semblance of Normal

**Disclaimer:**_ I had a wonderful dream. I owned Alex Rider. Too bad it was just that. A _dream_._

_**Previously...**_

_Luke sighed and sat down on the bed. Spies. SAS soldiers. Terrorist organizations out to kill people. And, oh yeah, a _depressed teenager_. It was sounding less and less easy._

"_We should probably go make sure everyone knows you're here. There are a few... trigger happy soldiers here that will shoot first and ask questions later if they see an unfamiliar face." Ben grinned. "Believe me when I say this place is almost as secure as a maximum security prison."_

_Luke laughed nervously. The last thing he wanted was for someone to mistakenly shoot him. It didn't take a genius to figure out that what he had gotten shot with hurt only a smidgen of what it really felt like. He had no wish to find out firsthand. His evening was going to be exciting enough as it was..._

**CHAPTER 28: Semblance of Normal**

* * *

><p>Alex rolled over with a groan, wincing as he inadvertently laid on top of his still bandaged arm. He quickly rectified the problem, and shut his eyes again. <em>So tired...<em> Of course, it wasn't quite as bad as it had been the past few days. He could stand to sit up and walk around—not too far though—instead of being completely bed ridden, but sometimes he wasn't quite sure if he really wanted that.

Now that he was finally getting some of his energy back, he was spending more and more time just... _brooding_, as Ben had put it. The fever had stuck around longer than both Ben and the doctor had thought, and in turn, it had taken him just that much longer to start getting better. Of course, _that_ wasn't what he was brooding over. No, it was the fact that Ben had had to sit with him for an _entire night_. An entire night before his sleep deprived and—as far as Alex was concerned—_damaged_ mind comprehended the fact that Ben wasn't going to abandon him.

It was pathetic.

Every time he thought of it, he burned with annoyance at himself. It seemed that the decision to trust Ben—no matter how subconscious it might have been the _first_ time—wasn't going to let him just forget about it and move on. And his mind seemed to have decided, without any input from him, that after the seizure, the best place for protection from the outside world was wherever Ben was. Thus making him all but plead with the man not to leave him.

He hated it.

The mental berating for those actions though, wasn't helping anything. The doctor, seeming to have a sixth sense for mental berating, had warned him just that morning that he was _still_ at an increased risk for seizures. He had pointed out that being upset—or how he had so kindly put it, _'depressed'_—over the fact he had had another seizure, wasn't helping the situation at all. Alex had responded with some carefully chosen words in French. The doctor had merely sent an annoyed glare at him and responded in German. "_Stop feeling sorry for yourself, and get your life under control, or there won't be a life to control._" Alex had promptly shut up.

Dr. Sayer had then proceeded to outline what he expected to find the next time he came to see Alex, which included him showing significant improvement in dealing with the nightmares. Either by talking to Ben about them, or making it through the night without it disturbing his sleep. The doctor had left after that, and Alex had drifted back to sleep.

"Alex?" A hand rested on his shoulder, and Alex groaned. _Bad timing_. "I know you're awake." There was a chuckle in the voice, and Alex grudgingly opened his eyes to stare at Ben. He wasn't sure how he had missed the obvious sound of the door opening though... "Blake said you've been sleeping since the doctor left. Four hours ago."

Alex groaned again, and tossed an arm over his face. Four hours was plenty long, but he didn't want to have to face what was sure to be coming next...

"We're going to eat." Ben pulled the arm down with a grin. "And since your fever's gone, the doctor made it clear that you weren't supposed to be lazing around all day."

Yes... _that_. Hiding out in his room, had made it so he could avoid the glances that the others in the house were bound to send his way. The curious glances to see if he _really_ was all right. And the walk down the stairs wasn't exactly appealing either. "You didn't make me come down for lunch." Despite his words and thoughts though, Alex pushed himself upright, cradling his bandaged arm against his chest. It had only been a few days, after all.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't around to drag you down." Ben ran a hand through his hair, before glancing back at the door almost nervously. _Something..._ "And... we've earned a ninth person in the safe house."

Alex stopped what he was doing, and raised an eyebrow at Ben. "A ninth person?" He couldn't fathom why MI6 would be adding another person to the household, when it seemed that they had enough problems already... Besides, there wasn't another room.

Ben shrugged, seeming somewhat evasive. "MI6 decided that it would be for the best." He reached a hand out to help steady Alex as he stood up. After being all but bedridden for the past few days, Alex still felt weak, and probably would have collapsed after too long if he hadn't had the help. _Pathetic_. "Just don't worry about it, okay? He's not going to interrogate you, and he hardly knows anything about your past. You'll just... have to go by _Alec_ for a while. Just the name though, nothing else. You can still be your sixteen year old self."

Alex nodded slowly, filing the one piece of information that Ben had inadvertently given away. The subject was a '_he_.' After taking a few hesitant steps toward the door—and discovering that, yes, his knee still throbbed with every movement—he turned his attention back to Ben. "So, am I allowed to _know_ anything about this person?"

Ben sent him a mischievous smile. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

Alex mulled over the statement as they made their way down the hall and down the stairs. That implied that it could be someone he knew... but the only people that he could think of were Grant and Levendis. Levendis obviously knew who he was, and he doubted that MI6 would bat an eyelash at revealing his identity to Grant. Especially when his _co-workers_ already knew. It was too much trouble...

His musing was cut short when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Alex shook off Ben's hand once they were almost to the kitchen. As far as he was concerned, any sign of weakness in front of K-Unit was unnecessary. They didn't need to know how he was really feeling. Worn out and—dare he admit it?—slightly depressed.

It only took him a moment to zero in on the stranger in the room. It was like playing a game of 'which one doesn't fit.' And the answer was immediately obvious. There was an age gap of at least six years. He lacked the obvious muscle mass that most SAS men had. He looked distinctly out of place—_and_ was the _last_ person Alex had expected to find sitting in the kitchen of the safe house.

Of course _he_ had been brought into this. _He_ was the only other person that had had prolonged contact with _Alec Pierre_. _He_ was the only person that could be pulled into this without anyone really noticing. _He_ was the only person connected into the mess by two people. And _he_ was the only other person that Alex had accepted and trusted—somewhat—in the past... year, at the least.

Ben had known, of course. And Alex was under no illusions that Luke's sudden appearance wasn't because of him. _That_ was obvious. It seemed that the seizure and prolonged nightmares had pushed everyone over some unseen edge, and determined that Alex needed something more than just Ben keeping an eye on him. The message was loud and clear—Ben was going to be called out again, and _no one_ wanted a repeat of the past few weeks.

Ben gave him a nudge toward the table, and Alex was almost relieved to find that his chair was closer than he had imagined. But he wanted nothing more than to escape back to his room and dissect the recent... _developments_. Not that anyone was going to let him do that...

The others had already started eating, and after a few moments, Ben pushed a plate full of food toward Alex. Clearly, he had realized that Alex wasn't about put the effort into getting food. "Eat, or you'll end up seeing Dr. Sayer sooner than you expected." Ben muttered to him.

Alex scowled at the man, but was pleased to notice that the others had barely faltered in their conversation when he had joined them. They were more interested in Luke. From the sound of it, he had gotten himself introduced to the spying world through an elaborate set up by MI5 and MI6. The set up was, of course, courtesy of a bored agent assigned to desk duty writing training scenarios.

From what Alex was able to gather, they had gone full out with Luke, subjecting him to a complete murder investigation, interrogation, manipulation, etc. for a crime pulled together in a matter of hours. Alex didn't envy him at all, but was hard pressed not to let a small smile slip through at Luke's less than enthusiastic view of the security services.

Ben slid into a chair next to him, and gave him another nudge, prompting him to eat. Alex scowled at him again, before turning his attention to his food. If the others didn't care about his presence... well, maybe it wasn't _so_ bad.

* * *

><p>After an hour of <em>socializing<em>—mainly of watching Ben for hints of what he was up to—Alex made his way back up the stairs and to his room. He briefly considered outlining a list of his suspicions, before deciding that that would take too much effort. Instead, he climbed back into bed, pulled the blankets up around himself, and settled down for a nice long session of examining the facts he knew.

There weren't too many possibilities. At least, not too many that fit the few facts he knew. Luke was there, but hadn't been told anything about Alex's history. Hadn't even been told Alex's real name. But he did know Alex's age. So... what did Luke _actually_ know? Did he know the reason _why_ Alex was being protected? Or had MI6 used some cover story. Something to keep the wrong questions from being asked? And what was the reasoning behind Luke being there in the first place?

By the time Ben and Luke showed up later that evening, Alex had sifted through the facts, and had come up with the only plausible reasoning behind the actions. Luke was there because of him...

Luke grabbed the free chair, while Ben sat down on the edge of the bed, surveying Alex with a raised eyebrow. "Think you've got it all figured out now?" Ben asked.

Alex felt the corners of his mouth twitch up. "I think so. It wasn't too hard to figure out. Luke wouldn't be here if Jones didn't think it was necessary. And since I haven't heard anything recently about Simurgh or SCORPIA attacking _family members_, there has to be another reason for Luke's appearance. The only thing that's changed recently was, you being gone, your MIA status, and me... getting sick."

It was Luke's turn to stare. "MIA?"

Ben winced, and sent a glare in Alex's direction. It seemed that he hadn't explained _that_ to Luke... So just what _had_ he explained? "My last assignment didn't go as planned, and I was separated from my backup for two weeks. Standard procedure is that after three days, anyone who has missed a check in—with certain qualifications—is declared missing in action. It just happened to take me two weeks to walk to France."

"France?" Luke frowned. "Mum and Dad didn't know anything about this..."

"They didn't have clearance—let me remind you, you're the only one that knows about MI6—and the situation really wasn't that bad."

"You were missing for two weeks!"

"It wasn't a high risk mission." Ben ran a tired hand over his face. "Things just got a little out of hand. If I had gone on missing for another couple of weeks, then they would have started contacting family. Even then though, they probably wouldn't tell you the how or why."

Alex suppressed a smirk at Luke's glower. Ben had explained the ins and outs of the MIA status the day before, once Alex could focus his concentration on something longer than just a few minutes. MIA was declared mostly as a technicality. If it had been a high-risk mission—one set in a warring country or with obvious indications that it was a near suicide mission—they would have contacted his family. And, after a certain amount of time, they would have presumed him dead. As it was, under current regulations and recent activities, a number of agents were announced MIA every few weeks. Most often, they would turn up a week later, having completed the mission and getting separated from their backup, with minimal injuries. Families weren't worried, and things went back to normal.

Alex almost wished that they had kept him in the dark about Ben. Perhaps if he hadn't _known_, he wouldn't have reacted quite as badly.

"You're cleared now, so it doesn't matter. They'll let you know if something happens." Ben shrugged slightly, before turning his attention back to Alex. "You've guessed the easy part. What about the rest?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Luke being here has something to do with those three things that have changed. I _know_ you didn't uncover something on your mission that would directly require Luke to be put into protection. If you did, the rest of your family would be in protection as well—and it could have been done without introducing me into the mix. The only other explanation is that it has something to do with _me_." He bit his lip slightly, taking in Luke's expression. It seemed that so far, his guessing was spot on. "So... Luke's here because you needed someone to keep an eye on me, and he's the only person I've... _accepted_ recently. MI6 is going to keep you going out in the field, so you had no choice."

Luke stared at Alex. "You figured _all that_ out from a few sentences?"

Alex shrugged. "Wasn't that hard..."

Ben snorted. "For _you_." He cast a slightly wary glance in Luke's direction. "Jones wants me in the field to gather information on Simurgh's movements in the UK. It should hopefully make protection here easier, and it might actually make it so we can get them off your back."

Alex nodded and sighed. He had expected as much.

"You're, er... okay with this?"

"I'm not thrilled, if that's what you're asking." He flicked some invisible lint off of the blanket, studiously ignoring Ben's gaze. "It's not like I have a choice, anyway. Jones is doing all she can to keep me here, so I doubt that she would have approved _this_ if she thought it wouldn't work. She seems to be attempting to stay in my '_good graces_.'"

"This _Jones_ person... is she who I have to thank for my introductory adventure?" There was a definite bit of distaste in Luke's tone, and Alex wondered what Luke would think if he ever actually met the woman...

"Somewhat." Ben grinned at Luke. "You should feel _flattered_. Most everyone would love to have some attention from the Head of MI6. You didn't even have to try."

"Yeah, well... sentiment _not_ appreciated."

Ben laughed. "I'll be sure to let her know of your opinion."

_Like she would care_... Alex snorted to himself. There was no way that Mrs. Jones would care about the image she created for one measly university student. If anything, it had worked well enough to scare Luke into doing exactly what MI6 wanted. If they ever had use of Luke once this was all over... it certainly wouldn't be hard to convince him. If he didn't cooperate, they could ruin his life with a simple push of a button.

And now it was _his_ fault that Luke had been pulled into it. If he hadn't been so... so... _weak_, he would have been able to hold out longer. Wouldn't have run into the problems. Wouldn't have had another seizure and required the drastic measures...

"Alec?" He startled slightly, when Ben touched his arm. "Are you going to go to bed now? Or staying up a little longer? Dr. Sayer didn't want you to overdo it..."

Alex grabbed the book that had been sitting on the bedside stand from where he had left it that morning. "Little longer. Might as well read while I can."

Luke yawned widely. "Well, I'm heading to bed. Too much stress for one day." He sent a small smile in Alex's direction, before heading out the door.

The moment the door closed behind him, Alex turned a glare on Ben. "I know this was as much your idea as hers. I'll get you back for it."

Ben sighed. "Knew it was too good to be true..." He muttered to himself. "And it wasn't _my_ idea in the first place. Dr. Sayer suggested it."

Alex still glared at him.

"Fine. Just don't stay up too long; you were exhausted this afternoon until you took a nap."

Alex rolled his eyes, and turned his concentration back to his book. "Not that you were around to know that."

"I had to be in London, you know that. Luke probably would have been a gibbering mess if I hadn't gotten to him after too long."

"Your fault for putting him within the sphere of MI6's influence." Alex couldn't help the bitterness—and the feeling of untruthfulness of the statement—from coming out.

Ben sighed again. "It was the only way... and I think it'll do you some good to have someone _close_ to your age around. Luke knows how old you are, so you don't have to pretend. He just... doesn't know you were a spy. I figured you would tell him that if you wanted to."

"What about the OSA?"

"Signed it. As far as Jones is concerned, _you_ can tell Luke absolutely anything. The rest of us, not so much."

Alex smirked, and opened his book up, sending a knowing glance in Ben's direction. The chance of _him_ telling Luke anything that could possibly fall under the OSA was slim to none.

Ben grinned and got up from the bed. "I'll have to see if we can get a recording of Luke's interrogation, I think it'd be quite enlightening."

Alex snorted.

"Well, don't stay up too late. We don't want a relapse or something." The man left the room, not even glancing back to see Alex's scowl. Alex settled back on his pillows with an indignant huff. Sometimes, Ben made it seem like Alex had _wanted_ something to happen. It was absurd.

And, he really wasn't quite sure what to think of Luke's presence in the house.

The weeks that Ben had been gone had been absolutely miserable. It was impossible to forget the feelings of helplessness that had entered his mind when the nightmares returned, when he knew that there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn't trusted anyone else in the house—something that hadn't been helped at all by the nightmares—and hadn't been able to even get his cursory comfort from the tea. He had kept to himself. And eventually the nightmares had convinced him that the others would just make it worse. Added with the fact that he was sure Ben wasn't coming back—he had stopped fighting it. Stopped trying to do anything. The helplessness had just blended over into his normal thoughts when he had started to get sick...

It hadn't been a good situation.

_But if Luke's around..._ Alex didn't exactly _like_ the idea of Luke joining them—especially not with the sole purpose of making sure nothing happened to him because of _his own doing_. But there was always the possibility that Luke would be enough to keep him from having another seizure because of sleep deprivation or a lack of medicine. He was still kicking himself over that one...

Yes, there were certainly benefits to having someone around. Not to mention, someone he _partially_ trusted. But he couldn't help but worry that his own _sphere of influence_ would have negative effects for Luke. That something would happen, and Luke would turn out just like everyone else he had trusted—except for Ben. So far.

_Dead._

* * *

><p>The first day with Luke in the house had been awkward. Ben had to nearly pull Alex down for meals, just because he would have rather hidden away from everyone than having to face <em>anyone<em>. After a rather long shouted conversation with Ben—with Alex doing most of the shouting—in French, he gave up and settled for sending covert glares toward Ben.

The next day had been remarkably better, both because Alex got a decent amount of sleep and because he was just all around feeling better. Well enough that he had managed to get downstairs before Ben could come up to fetch him, _and_ ate an acceptable amount of food. It meant that Snake wasn't breathing down his neck later to eat more...

Over the next few days it became clear that Luke was, by far, the odd person out in the household. He not only had his youth and lack of true muscles against him, but he was brand new to the spy world as well. Brand new to the concept that an enemy of his brother might kill said brother—or at least attempt to—at any time. And that the same enemy might just try to kill _him_ as well. Brand new to the concept that _'classified'_ was a phrase he was going to be hearing all too often.

Alex, or rather _Alec_ as Luke still knew him, seemed to have been delegated as the person to ease the transition. The others had claimed that it was because Alex and Luke were the closest in age, but Alex knew better. He was the only person that didn't have an _assigned job_. His only prospect was to stay safe, stay alive, and get a little studying done on the side. Of course, it didn't help that _he_ was Luke's assigned job.

Ben seemed to be making every attempt to put the two of them together in innocuous situations, trying to bring some sort of tentative friendship between the two. Alex really felt like Ben was trying too hard, but didn't bother to mention it. If it made Ben feel more comfortable with the arrangements, then so be it.

And Alex wasn't complaining about the companion. He had found that Luke was rather good at nitpicking the many essays Alex had written, and had a fairly good working knowledge of the maths he was currently studying. Almost as good as a tutor... They had spent time in the kitchen—when Ben begged off making both meals, claiming that he had too much to do. They had walked outside, with Alex discreetly showing Luke the best way to avoid the security features. And had spent hours nitpicking the recordings they had of the false investigation, and ways that it could have been done better.

Luke _really_ wasn't that much different from his brother. He just had a different goal in life that had never involved MI6. And while he hadn't actually seen any of the horrors of the world firsthand, he knew well enough when not to ask questions. When questions would have just made things worse... More than once, Luke had redirected a conversation to something Alex was more comfortable talking about.

A week after Luke joined them, Ben—and a few other opinions that counted—decided that Alex needed to go in to St. Dominic's to get some tests done. Really, the last thing he wanted them doing... but it wasn't exactly up to him. The only upside was that it meant he was finally getting out of the safe house, even if it was only for a few hours.

Unfortunately, it also meant that Ben was going to the bank to get his next assignment.

Luke hadn't come, and instead, Alex had been delegated to Snake for protection for the day. After all, he was the only one who would have any hope of understanding whatever jargon the doctors would sprout at him. Not that it would really matter. They were hoping that the tests wouldn't take _too_ long...

Ben glanced back at him from the driver's seat. "You're not planning anything sneaky back there, are you?"

Alex shook his head, and resumed staring out the window. They were in the middle of London, just a few minutes away from St. Dominic's. He had no wish to actually go into the building, but there wasn't any alternative. Dr. Sayer had explained that it was just some routine follow up tests, to make sure that they weren't missing something correctable.

The building slowly came into view, and Alex couldn't repress a sigh. He had _never_ wanted to go back to St. Dominic's.

Ben pulled the car into a space, and looked over his shoulder at Alex. "You're going to cooperate with them, right? They're just trying to keep you in as good of health as possible."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I know." He wasn't about to admit that his mind was already thinking up thousands of ways that things could go wrong. How someone could easily drug him asleep and whisk him away to a mental facility once they had determined that he was unsafe to be left in the general populace. How they could easily make a mistake, and over dose him...

Ben touched Alex's shoulder, redirecting his attention. "Cessez de vous inquiéter. Ils ne vont pas vous tuer là-dedans, si juste en finir au plus." _Stop worrying. They're not going to kill you in there, so just get it over with._ He chuckled slightly, an ominous sound.

Alex glared at him, before climbing out of the car and staring up at the imposing building. He _hated_ the place. With one last, almost pleading, glance in Ben's direction, Alex followed Snake into the building.

This was not his idea of fun.

* * *

><p>"I don't see why we had to do that." Alex said, staring grumpily out the window of the car. It felt like the entire five hours he had spent at the hospital hadn't come up with anything useful. While he might have hoped that since it was an upscale hospital the waits would be shorter, he was sadly mistaken. He felt like he had spent more time waiting than he had in the actual tests. Not that the tests had been exactly short either.<p>

None of it had been particularly stressful—most of the time he had just been ordered to lie still. They had x-rayed his arm to check for the presence of any glass that Snake might have missed. There were bound to be some shards still, but hopefully nothing major. The MRI—the worst test, since he had spent what felt like hours lying still, fearing that even breathing wrong would make them start over—had been to check that they weren't missing something. Something in his brain that could _possibly_ cause the recurrence of seizures. Even though everyone _knew_ what had caused it... And then there were the routine blood tests, and an hour with the a physical therapist to check his knee's progress.

"I'm sure they learned something helpful." Ben said. Snake had wanted to return to St. Dominic's to review the results in detail with Dr. Sayer—after they had all taken a short detour to an out of the way bookstore. It had been determined that Ben would be enough 'protection' to get Alex back to the safe house. "They want to keep all their bases covered."

Alex scowled at the floor. He hated to think just how often he would be forced through tests if he hadn't been in the safe house. It wasn't safe for him to be away for very long, lest they risk someone spotting him. The excursion had been carefully planned, with no one knowing their precise movements, not even MI6 headquarters. Security and privacy in the hospital had been at the maximum, as it would be if there was some high ranking dignitary within its walls. While it had all meant that Alex hadn't had a moment to himself, it had been rather amusing to hear the nurses complain about the security measures. None of them had known that _he_ was the cause of it all.

"So, bad news? Good news?"

Alex shrugged, startled out of his musing. The results hadn't been clear—the main reason why Snake was staying behind to help sort out everything. "They weren't sure. Dr. Sayer seems to think that they're missing something else."

Ben sent a sympathetic glance toward Alex. "I'm sure it'll work out. They know what they're doing, so _if_ something's up, they'll figure out how to fix it."

Alex nodded distractedly, not really believing what Ben was saying. He really didn't want to think about it now... "So... are you allowed to tell me anything about your assignment? Or is it all classified?"

Ben grinned, taking note of the subject change, and going with it. "Jones specifically mentioned that it would be best to let you know what's going on. I think she thought you might be less of a flight risk if you actually knew what was going on."

Alex turned to stare at him. "Flight risk? Me?"

"My thoughts exactly." Ben turned down a deserted road, one that Alex recognized as the main road toward the safe house. "Maybe she was hoping you wouldn't _worry_ so much."

Alex bit his lip, and stared at the ground. _Humiliating._..

"They're sending me to Iran to run surveillance on the compound. I'll be directing a team from a base there to start the surveillance so that it'll be ready for teams that come after me. Completely safe compared to what I was doing in Belgium."

"Compound?"

"Simurgh's base. Their main one in Iran, at least. Apparently it hasn't changed much since the _original_ Simurgh was there, so we still have blueprints. We still don't know who their main leaders are, so Jones is hoping that we'll be able to get some solid evidence." Ben glanced over at Alex for a moment, before focusing on the road again. "We haven't picked up too much chatter about Alec Pierre recently, but they're still looking for him. It's only a matter of time before the puzzle pieces start clicking into place."

"Yeah..." The thought of someone in the terrorist organization figuring out who he really was... was frightening. It was entirely possible that if they figured it out, they'd be all the more determined to bring him in. Or kill him. "How... how long? Will you be gone, I mean."

"A week. Maybe two. It all depends on how quickly we can get a team in and out. And I've got a few days before I have to leave." Ben shrugged slightly. "Homework, if you know what I mean. You're going to be okay with Luke? I mean, it's barely been a week."

"I... I'll be fine. It's okay, really." Alex shrugged. "Luke's... he's okay." Actually having someone _worried_ about his own comfort was rather disconcerting. People weren't supposed to _care_. Before, _she_ had been the only one that cared. Now, it seemed that Ben did too...

Ben ruffled Alex's hair, and he ducked away, sending a scowl at the man. "It'll be over before you know it." Ben said. "I bet what I'm doing will be more stressful than anything they make you do."

Alex cracked a smile. "Yeah, I'm sure..."

* * *

><p>For the first time in what felt like days, Alex found himself alone. Luke had disappeared off... somewhere, leaving Alex with nothing to do but study. And while the prospect of studying wasn't normally one to turn him off, he just couldn't bring himself to care. It was almost relaxing to have a few hours to himself.<p>

Of course, after a few hours, it got boring. The day and night shifts had already switched off, so Eagle was probably outside somewhere, and Dmitri was most likely prowling the front rooms and checking the security footage. Snake wasn't back yet, and it was possible that he wouldn't show up until the next morning, and Wolf had already disappeared into the bedroom. A normal evening.

Bah. _Normal_ evenings were overrated... and Alex was bored.

With nothing better to do, Alex headed downstairs. There _had_ to be something more interesting to do, other than studying, reading, and staring at the ceiling. From previous experience, being bored was the last thing he wanted or needed. That was when he tended to get into some sort of trouble. And he really didn't need that now.

Just as he was contemplating his next move, he heard voices drifting down the hall from the office-like room, and Alex's curiosity got the better of him. The three spies were crowded around the desk, looking over what seemed to be blueprints.

Plotting.

Planning.

"Approaching from the south might be your best bet. The team would have to tap into the mainframe and security system before they could get too far though, or they'd be noticed immediately. The virus entered into the system by MI5 should let them have access to the files and allow them to place an unnoticeable tap." Braden pulled the blueprints closer, studying a corner of the building. "Of course, if they've upgraded security much, the best infiltration point would be underwater. Levendis and I came across a number of underwater passages while exploring the area, and they might still be useable and unknown."

Alex crept forward, until he was hovering just outside of the door. None of the spies had noticed him, yet, and he planned to keep it that way. Clearly this was something for Ben's upcoming mission...

"It's a four person team, so we can't do anything big, and only one is trained in data retrieval. The other three are mainly there to make sure they get in and out safely." Ben waved his hand toward the blueprints. "As long as getting in and out isn't too hard, we shouldn't have any trouble getting things up and running..." He pulled out another map, a satellite image of an island. "The problem with the south entrance though, is that it's the closest to the mainland. From the little we've been able to gather, security cameras cover the front area, here and here." He circled two areas on the image. "And they have boats going between there and the mainland fairly often. Far too noticeable, even at night. We haven't found any security cameras on the western part of the island—and there weren't any with the old Simurgh. There is a guard station between the water and compound to the north though."

"Any sort of cover?" Mendelssohn asked. "Trees? Shrubs? Large rocks?"

"Some on the northwest. Sparse trees, some boulders, but otherwise it's pretty flat." Braden said. "Like a desert island. And it doesn't provide much cover."

Alex continued hovering at the door, catching a glimpse of the maps as the three moved around. They talked things out, giving suggestions here and there, but it seemed that everything they came up with had too many risks to be feasible. The underwater entrances could be trapped, or they could be blocked off from any inside entrances. It was also possible that water levels had dropped, making the entrances useless. Simurgh had a patrol boat on the east side, as well as two guard houses. There really wasn't much as far as options went...

"See anything Alec?"

Alex barely kept himself from jumping. He hadn't realized that Ben knew he was there, and the man certainly hadn't let on in the past few minutes. The others seemed surprised to see him there though... Alex took a few steps forward, until he could actually see the maps clearly, and pointed to a spot on the satellite image northwest of the island that just... didn't look _right_. "What's there?"

"Commercial shipping lines. From Bandar Torkaman, Iran to Cheleken, Turkmenistan." Braden said. "They pass about... probably a quarter mile west of the island."

Alex nodded slowly. That explained the difference. It was quite possible that they image had been taken when a ship was passing through... he tapped the shipping line, before fixing Ben with a stare. "You have a team of four, right?"

Ben nodded.

"And your main worry is getting them on the island in the first place and avoiding detection. You're not worried about _what_ they'll do once they're there?"

"No, Smithers and the others will have that covered. They just need an entry point."

"Would it be possible to use the shipping lane? If it's a well used one, there should be a boat or ship heading out at almost any time you need it. It would land them within a quarter mile of their destination, and as long as the sea's relatively calm, a swim like that shouldn't take too long. They wouldn't be able to carry too much with them though, not if they wanted to stay afloat..." He trailed off, gazing over the satellite image. It didn't look too old, and he could see the outline of the guard shack that Ben had mentioned, facing directly toward the sea off the northwest corner of the island. "Going in just as the sun is setting, any lookouts they might have will lose your team in the sun. Most likely, they'll never notice them in the first place."

Mendelssohn raised an eyebrow, looking impressed. "That might actually work. They'd have to get back though... it's not like you can jump on a moving ship." He fixed Alex with a speculative gaze, as if waiting for him to come up with a solution.

"Er..." He drew a blank. There had to be a way. Anyone on the island would notice though if a random boat came out to the shipping lines, set anchor, and then left an hour later. But if there was already a ship moving through the lane... "Coordinate a smaller boat to trail one of the ships. As long as they picked up the team while staying in the shadow of the larger boat, no one would be the wiser. With the ships passing so regularly, they wouldn't go through the effort to scan each ship that passes. If it was a lone boat, then maybe, but they wouldn't know the boat was there in the first place."

"How are you planning to get around the guards on the island?"

Alex paused for a moment. Mendelssohn was testing him, and the others were going along with it just to see what he came up with. For a moment he cursed his curiosity, before refocusing on the problem. "How recent is this satellite photo? And what time of day?"

Mendelssohn flipped the image over. "Two weeks ago. And at... sixteen hundred hours, so just before sunset."

Alex nodded, taking the image back. "If you look closely, you can see the outlines of the guard shack on the north, and the two guard shacks on the southeast and southwest corners. Even fainter, are the people on the ground patrolling." He circled the dots with his finger tips. "And they're all on the south or east side. They obviously think that those sides need the most protection. It's entirely possible that they left that side of the island open because there was no way that someone could come in. With the sun in right position, anyone—or anything—close to the surface would be near invisible. And they're not on guard, because they shouldn't know that MI5 and MI6 are watching their position. It shouldn't be too difficult to take out the guards if they get in the way though."

Braden nodded slowly. "True... Of course, the team would still need to watch the island for patterns for a few days before making their move. If that security bug can give you a little more information, you might be able to knock out a few cameras."

Alex and Ben shared a look. "Smithers."

"If anyone can figure that out, he can. He might even have a few gadgets that would make it easier for the team to get in and out."

Ben nodded. "All in the plan. There are a few other things I need to work out first, but I will definitely keep this in mind. I think it's probably our best chance." He sent Alex a grin, before gathering the papers together, and heading toward the door. "I've got a few phone calls to make."

Alex stared at the door for a moment, surprised by the abruptness.

"You're a smart kid, you know that?" Braden said. "It probably would have taken us all night to come up with a halfway decent plan."

Alex shrugged slightly.

Mendelssohn laughed, and the two of them left the room, leaving Alex to stare after them.

Maybe boredom wasn't _that_ bad...

* * *

><p>"Alec!"<p>

_He couldn't breathe. Something was pressing down on his chest, cutting off all attempts._

_Terror filled him._

"Calm down, _please_."

_He tried to run, knowing that _it_ was coming, but his feet slowed. The world spun around him, as he slowly suffocated. Colors blurred together, until they were a nearly unimaginable mass, until the colors themselves started advancing on him._

"Alec! It's a nightmare. Come on!"

_He screamed, using up the last of his precious air, before slumping to the ground. Giving up. A thick oil like substance coated his body, before forming into more restricting bands. He scraped at his arms, trying to get it off, but the grip tightened._

_His vision darkened... he was going to die! He didn't want to _die_! He started struggling again, desperate for air again. The oil seemed to have a mind of its own, and worked its way up his body. Up his chest. Up his neck. Through his hair. Into his _mouth_..._

"Alec! Calm down, okay?" Reality slammed into Alex, and he twisted and turned, trying to get air into his wheezing lungs. The lights were too bright, the air was too cool, and he was soaked in sweat. Two hands had his wrists pinned by his sides, while still managing to keep the rest of him relatively in place. "You're okay here. You're safe."

_Safe house... Ben's gone... Luke's here.._. As soon as comprehension came back to Alex, he wanted nothing more than to get away from the person currently pinning him down. He twisted and turned again, but Luke held him in place. It seemed that the blankets tangled around his legs were doing half the job for Luke.

"It's okay. Deep breaths."

Alex took a few shuddering breaths trying to focus on anything other than his current burning embarrassment. It had been the same routine for the past few nights. Ever since Ben had been gone longer than he was supposed to. And they hadn't heard anything either.

Though the nightmares had yet to... _evolve_ into something with voices, Alex almost found the wordless terrors worse. The complete and utter helplessness of the situation when he could make neither sound, nor breathe. And no matter what, the memory of what was in the nightmare faded almost as soon as he woke up, leaving behind only the emotions. _Terror. Panic. Helplessness. Aloneness._

"Woah, slowly, Alec." Luke caught him before he could plummet back to the pillows after trying to sit up too quickly. "You need to be careful."

Alex blinked away the dizziness, before rubbing at his eyes and looking over at the bedside clock.

_3:17 am_.

He shoved the covers off, shook Luke's restraining hand off his shoulder, and very nearly tumbled out of the bed, before heading into the bathroom for a shower. It was all a part of the usual routine of the past few nights. He hated to think how horrible it would have been if Luke wasn't around. He certainly wouldn't be coping anywhere near as well as he was. And he was _barely_ coping.

While waiting for the water to warm up, he surveyed the damaged he had done. Long red scratches stretched down his upper arms, and it wasn't hard to put two and two together. He hadn't just scraped at his arms in the nightmare; he had done it in reality as well. Probably the reason he had woken up with Luke griping his wrists so tightly. His wrists were red as well, leaving no doubt that bruises were going to show up eventually.

He hated it. Hated every single part of himself that made normal living impossible.

He had allowed himself to make a connection with a person, and he was paying for that foolishness with his nightmares. The mere _threat_ that Ben wasn't coming back—he _was_ overdue, after all—made his mind seize up and rebel. What would have happened if he had actually left Ben in March? Would he have returned only weeks later? Days? Would it have gotten so bad that he had seizures again, with no one to help him cope?

It was pathetic that he _needed_ someone to help him cope in the first place.

Fifteen minutes later, Alex pushed past Luke—who was waiting for him in the hall—and headed down the stairs. Luke followed him down, waving off the usual glances from whoever was on duty in the living room. Now was the time when he just started functioning on autopilot.

An hour, three cups of tea, a few questioning glances from Luke, three false starts, and a choked apology later, Alex allowed Luke to convince him to take his medicine. For the forth night in a row...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So that might seem like a depressing end to the chapter, but... it's not. Really. Just because he has someone around that he _somewhat_ trusts doesn't mean that the nightmares will magically go away. He still needs to work it out, and he's afraid to trust someone else—in case that's the only reason Ben's sticking around. It isn't, but Alex doesn't know that. Don't worry, he'll get better. Eventually.  
><strong>

**I know there wasn't really too much that happened here, but I had to cut it, since the next part has a _very big_ time jump. It had to be a different chapter, or you'd just get confused. If I have enough time, I might update early (it's a shorter than the last dozen chapters), but it depends on a lot of things...**

**Someone was wondering about keeping all the character names straight (I don't blame you, it can be confusing), so here: Wolf/Sebastian, Snake/Blake, Eagle/Micah, Penguin/Dmitri, Kleczka/Braden, and Rosen/Mendelssohn. I think that's it... Also, there was a little bit of confusion with Luke getting shot. Luke was shot with a tranquillizer dart, not an actual bullet. That's why it hurt when he was shot, but when he was awake later, everything was fine. It would be rather dumb of MI5/MI6 to shoot their target...  
><strong>

**Thanks for the reviews! Each and every one of them (no matter how small) has kept me writing this, all because I know there's someone out there that actually enjoys reading this.  
><strong>

**S.B.L.**


	29. Of Disastrous Proportions

**Disclaimer: **_I don't think Anthony Horowitz will be setting foot at my uni anytime soon, so that must mean that I'm not him. Naturally, the rights to Alex Rider belong with him, not me._

_**Previously...**_

_It was pathetic that he _needed_ someone to help him cope in the first place._

_Fifteen minutes later, Alex pushed past Luke—who was waiting for him in the hall—and headed down the stairs. Luke followed him down, waving off the usual glances from whoever was on duty in the living room. Now was the time when he just started functioning on autopilot._

_An hour, three cups of tea, a few questioning glances from Luke, three false starts, and a choked apology later, Alex allowed Luke to convince him to take his medicine. For the fourth night in a row..._

**Important A/N: Just so you don't get confused by the time of year... Luke joined the safe house at the end of April. The last scene of last chapter was roughly a month later (aka. mid-May). Now we're in July. Capiche?**

**CHAPTER 29: Of Disastrous Proportions**

* * *

><p>It was the beginning of July.<p>

Alex couldn't believe how quickly time had sped by. The nightmares during the last few days of the month had been more violent than normal, and Alex hadn't been the only one grateful for Ben's return from his latest mission. It hadn't helped that they had passed the one year anniversary of Jack's death...

It had been a three day slump that even Ben had had trouble breaking him out of. Thankfully, it _hadn't_ ended with a seizure. He had passed the two month threshold with no problems—aside from the nightmares—and was well on his way to making it to three months again. And hopefully for months and months after _that_.

Now that he was back to his normal state of mind though, things were getting back to normal. Or as normal as it could get for three spies, an ex-spy, four SAS men, and one lone civilian living together could get. Ben's missions had returned some valuable information, but the most important was what they learned from Simurgh's base.

Someone was in charge, that was clear, but so far they had stayed in the background. From the few cameras the team had tapped—barely making it out of the compound before being detected—only guards and a few visitors had passed by. Laurence Miller, a prime suspect in behind the attacks in France over the New Year, and Abdu Nabih, Simurgh's leader for the Egyptian protests, were both seen visiting the compound, giving further evidence that _someone_ of importance was taking residence there. And that _everything_ was truly connected together.

The protests, revolutions, and whatnot had died down a little over the summer months, making Alex wonder if Simurgh was just taking a step back to see their _handiwork_, before sweeping forward for the final crushing blow. Or if there was something else up their sleeve. It was in Europe's best interests to keep the countries separate and out of turmoil, but so far any movements toward peace had been viewed with hostility. It wasn't going well on _any_ front.

It had taken a few weeks before more information came back from the compound, and by then, Ben had been well into his second mission, this time investigating the protests that had started in Spain, looking to see if there was any connection with Simurgh or SCORPIA. The new information _extended_ his mission, giving him contacts to seek out. Or rather, contacts for his _alias_ to seek.

After discovering a temporary base of Simurgh's on the border of Spain and Portugal, Ben was able to set up another information gathering station, and _then_ the information really started to become useful. Encrypted files that they had gotten from the island base were cracked using files from the temporary base.

It showed that Simurgh had people spread out across the whole of Europe, though the majority was based in major cities—such as Madrid, Lisbon, Paris, Rome, London, and Dublin. More than half those present in the major cities were ex-SCORPIA or had some connection with the terrorist organization. A third had criminal records in the major countries of the world—be it for murder, terrorism, or drug or gun trafficking—and only a few had actually served time.

The most disturbing part was the fact that the highest concentration of ex-SCORPIA agents were in the areas surrounding London.

It had taken another couple of weeks, a mission to Turkey, and Ben being late by more than a week, before MI6 made a breakthrough. They were able to intercept the latest instructions and track down who they were going to. Track down who was an active agent. With specific people to watch, tension around the safe house had decreased, making the place almost seem normal...

"Hey Alec!"

The shout startled Alex into dropping the book he was slogging through, and he scowled at the desk when he realized just _who_ it was. Things had most definitely returned to normal.

"Are you coming to help or not?" Luke had long since lost his shadow tendencies over the last couple of months, realizing that his brother's old unit mates and fellow spies weren't anything _too_ special. He had taken over cooking duties while Alex was once again forbidden from the stove, and it had just stuck ever since. Every day though, without fail, he had called Alex down to help, taking the time to engage him in some teasing at least part of the day.

Grateful for the distraction from the coursework—since MI6 had taken over his schooling, he was required to actually turn in assignments—he flipped the book shut, closed his laptop, and headed downstairs. Ben had been home for almost a week now, and for the moment, it didn't look like MI6 would be pulling him out again anytime soon.

"Alec?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm coming. Don't have a kitten about it..." He specifically heard Luke snort in the kitchen, before the telltale sound of glasses in the cupboards rattled as Luke shut a door a little too forcefully. He was encouraging Alex to hurry up. Even if it just meant that getting there before Luke managed to damage something irreparably. Something he had managed just too many times in the past few months...

Snake smirked at Alex as they passed each other in the living room, sending a knowing glance in the direction of the kitchen. Everyone had learned quickly that if they didn't want to get food poisoning, it was best to leave the cooking to Alex and the Daniels'. At least then, they wouldn't have to worry about getting sick.

Even though it was nearly three months since the last seizure, no one in the household felt comfortable leaving Alex alone in the kitchen, so he had never truly resumed his solitary cooking duties. On days when Ben or Luke didn't cook, someone else was always roped in to help. Eagle was in the midst of getting cooking lessons from Ben—and Luke, while Ben was away—and had helped Alex on more than one occasion since then. Just a precaution in case something _did_ happen.

Alex came into the kitchen, just as Luke had turned around to start getting things out of the refrigerator. He took a few steps, until he was right behind the older teen, and waited patiently. Luke seemed to be taking out anything that looked remotely useful, before shutting the door with a snap, and turning around. Alex just grinned at him, when Luke startled visibly, and dropped half the things he was carrying. "So... what are we making?"

Luke glared at him, before picking the stuff up off the floor and placing it on the counter. "Do you _always_ have to do that?"

Alex shrugged. "Should've gotten used to it by now. And it's fun."

Luke rolled his eyes. "For you..." He surveyed the ingredients he had set out on the counter for a moment, rubbing his chin. "I was thinking some sort of soup. We've got more than enough vegetables and beans..."

"It's the middle of summer." And rather warm too. He doubted that Wolf, who had been outside in the sun for the majority of the morning, would appreciate eating something hot like soup.

"That doesn't mean you can't have soup." Luke pushed aside a few of the containers, before settling on the beans in front of him. "What about chili? Is that better? We can have rice too..."

Alex rolled his eyes. Luke, much like Ben had, was tired of the _simple_ meals, and had taken it upon himself to find something more... elaborate. Of course, that could have just been a sign that he had far too much time on his hands. Which he did. "So, do you actually need my help? Or do you just want me for my charming company?"

Luke turned around to look at him, leaning against the counter, with a smirk on his face. "Well... I'd say charming company, but... you're not really all that _charming_, you know?"

Alex glared at him.

"But you're not, really." Luke grinned, backing away slightly. Alex stalked forward as well, keeping Luke within striking range. "I-I mean... you're always so _gloomy_..."

Once Luke was in the clear, Alex knocked Luke's feet out from underneath him. There was nothing that he could have hit on the way down, so Luke ended with a throbbing ankle and a bruised pride. A long-suffering sigh from the doorway caused both of them to look up, and Snake slowly shook his head at the two of them.

"Don't hurt yourself, Alec." Snake warned.

Luke scowled, and rubbed at his ankle. "How come you're always so worried about him? He's the one that attacked me!"

Snake smirked. "You're not the one that I'm getting paid to protect." With that, he turned to leave. "And you baited him."

Alex grinned down at Luke, before giving him a hand up. "See? I'm _charming_."

Luke glared, but it was clear that he was hard-pressed to keep from laughing. "I hate you."

"You know that's a lie." Alex gave him a shove toward the counters. "Now, _Monsieur Chef_, you can deal with the chili, and I'll take care of the rice."

* * *

><p>Everything had been going so well. He and Luke had easily settled into the rhythm they always had when working in the kitchen together. They managed to stay out of each other's way, but Luke still had an eye on whatever Alex was doing. And it had been like any other day.<p>

That was, like any other day, until the silent alarm went off. A panel in each room lit up—alerting all occupants of the house that someone had passed through the security system, _without_ letting the intruder know that they were discovered. Alex froze, noticing the alarm immediately. Mere seconds later, Alex heard more than one door shut, as people came down from the upper levels.

Glass shattered, prompting Alex into action, and he dropped to the ground. Though the glass that had shattered wasn't in the kitchen, he had no doubt that it would soon follow suit. He grabbed onto Luke and pulled him down as well, just moments before one of the windows in the kitchen shattered. Alex scrambled out of the way, dodging the falling crystals, and sought shelter underneath the table. Luke jerked out of his shock, and scrambled underneath as well, narrowly missing the second hail of glass as another window shattered.

The sound of gunfire soon filled the house, as each window seemed to be methodically broken. The others in the house were clearly doing their best, but... _there was so much _noise!

A hand clamped down on one of Alex's arms, and he instinctively jerked away.

"Don't fight me." A voice hissed in his ear. He turned just enough to see that it was Dmitri. He didn't pull back when Dmitri grabbed on again, and pulled the two of them toward a sheltered space. A room without windows. He glanced both of them over, before nodding toward the corner of the room. "Stay down. Don't get up for anything. And whatever happens, _do not_ make a sound." He sent them both a stern look, before shutting the door halfway and going back toward the kitchen.

The sounds of guns firing got closer, until they were just on the other side of the wall. He felt _helpless_. He should be helping them. After all, they were after _him_... During some point, Luke had grabbed a hold of Alex's arm, and as the sound of gunfire got closer, his grip tightened. Alex could almost feel him shaking, as he stared at nothing in particular.

Almost unconsciously, the two of them edged closer together, until they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, with their backs against the wall in the furthest corner of the small room. Absolutely no protection whatsoever. _Sitting ducks_.

Half of Alex's body was telling him that they only way he was going to survive was to run and fight. The other half was just begging for it all to stop. For the people to just go away. He had been lulled into a false sense of protection. He wasn't really any safer... there were just more people looking out for him.

_More people for _them_ to hurt._

A deadly silence filled the house after a few more minutes, and Alex almost wished the noise were back. The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, racing as if to out beat his own, imminent, death. _Everyone's dead_... now they were just looking for _him_. They'd finish Luke off in no time. The protection was nothing, just merely something that prolonged his pathetic existence...

They were going to kill them all and there was nothing he could do. It would be all his fault. His fault...

"Alec?" Fingers snapped in front of his face, startling him enough to slam his head back against the wall. Fighting off the sudden pounding in his head—as well as relief—he refocused on the face in front of him. _Ben_. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Wha-what...? No, no, I'm..." He blinked slowly, suddenly finding that he wanted nothing more than to wake up and find that it had all been a nightmare. But it wasn't. This _was_ reality. "Fine. I'm... Fine. Just a little..." He trailed off, shrugging, hoping that Ben would understand what he couldn't put into words.

Ben nodded. "Yeah, we all are." _All are, what?_ Ben stood up and extended a hand toward Alex. "Come on. They need to get you out of here."

Alex took a couple of deep breaths before accepting Ben's hand. Even though he hadn't actually done anything active, adrenaline had flooded his system, and he could still feel his heart racing. As it was, it took a moment for him to actually comprehend what Ben had said. "Leave? Why?"

"This house has been compromised. It's not safe." He attempted to steer Alex away from the wreckage in the kitchen, but wasn't fast enough to keep him from noticing the perfect splay of bullet holes in the wall across from the stove and window. If he hadn't reacted to the alarm—if it hadn't been there in the first place—he and Luke would have been full of bullet holes as well.

Noticing his hesitation, Ben grabbed onto Alex's upper arms, and pulled him toward the door leading to the garage. That didn't stop Alex from catching a glimpse of the dead body in the living room though, and he saw Luke—who was being manhandled by Wolf—turn a delicate shade of green at the sight.

_He_ wasn't used to this... this wasn't _his_ world... and it turned Alex's stomach at the thought that a dead body didn't affect him the way it should. The way it would affect any other _normal_ teenager. He wasn't revolted by the sight. It was just... _a waste of life and rather insignificant_.

Ben took advantage of Alex's complacent attitude, and pushed him into one of the cars, where Dmitri was already in the driver's seat. Wolf got into the front, after getting Luke into the back, and Braden slipped in on the other side, leaving Alex sandwiched in the middle. _Ben's not coming_...

"They're taking you to another safe house." Ben said, catching Alex's attention again. "The rest of us should be along in a few days, once we've figured what went wrong here. Don't worry about us; I just want the two of you to watch out for each other."

It was clear that he expected an answer, and when Luke nodded, Alex copied him mechanically. _Ben's leaving_... Of course it was expected. After all, it wasn't like life revolved around _him_. As they pulled away, Alex couldn't squash the feeling that they were making some sort of mistake. Playing right into... _someone's_ hands.

Wouldn't whoever was after them have alternative plans laid out? Of course they would, if they had paid any attention to SCORPIA's follies. Plans were doomed to failure when there were no contingencies laid out. _They_ would have alternatives...

How had such a good day gone downhill so quickly?

* * *

><p>With the end of the adrenaline rush, Alex had sagged visibly. He had slouched enough that he could comfortably place his head on Luke's shoulder, and since Luke had yet to complain, Alex wasn't moving. He wanted nothing more than to slip asleep, but something told him that that wasn't a good idea just yet.<p>

He _hated_ adrenaline rushes... and the headache that had slipped up afterwards was no help either.

"That black Ford has been on our tail for the past few turns, hasn't it?" There wasn't a panicked note in Braden's voice at all, but it was clear that the car provided some amount of suspicion.

"So you've noticed that too?" Alex opened his eyes long enough to see Dmitri glance over his shoulder, before closing them firmly again. "He's actually been there since we joined A322 and got onto M3. The little side jaunts weren't shaking him, and I don't think sniper rifles are exactly what _normal_ people carry around. It'll take something a little more... _creative_."

Braden swore fluently. "So he's _following_ us? And you didn't say anything?"

Dmitri chuckled slightly, before swerving in between two cars, effectively cutting them off from their pursuer. "Sebastian knew. Besides, we didn't need to get you all worked up back there, now did we?"

Braden started to say something more, but was cut off by a fuzzy sound coming from the radio in Wolf's hands. After twisting the dial a few more times, changing a few settings, the sound came across loud and clear.

"—to Wolf. Fox to Wolf, over."

Alex's eyes flew open again, recognizing the voice, and sat up.

Luke glanced down at Alex. "Ben?" He mouthed.

Alex nodded.

"Wolf here, over."

"What's your status?"

"Unidentified on our tail. Attempting to shake, but they're proving sticky."

"Got a make and numbers for me?"

"Sierra, Foxtrot, Zero, Niner, Zulu, Bravo, Whiskey. It's a Ford Focus. Black."

"Got that. Stand by."

The radio went silent, and Dmitri took the time so swerve between a few more cars. "I know there's more around here somewhere, but I haven't been able to pick any out." He glanced over his shoulder, before moving between yet another set of cars. "Sending only one car would be an elementary mistake, and I _know_ they won't do that."

The radio crackled back to life. "Fox to Wolf, this is emergency code Three Zero Niner Echo Alpha. We've secured the signal. What's your position?"

"On M3, heading northeast, just before M25 crosses over."

"Good." There was a short pause, followed by some static, before Ben came back. "Take M25 toward Dartford, and get off at the Chertsey exit. Stall for time, and try to lose your tail. We'll work on getting you a cleared pathway on A3, by Cobham. Watch your speed in residential areas, and keep the lights run to a minimum. We're working on some police cooperation on our end, so you won't be pulled."

Dmitri nodded. "M25, Dartford. Chertsey exit. Stall. A3, Cobham."

Wolf relayed the message, and the temperature of the car seemed to drop a degree as the tension rose. Alex sent a slightly nervous glance over his shoulder, but didn't actually see anything out of the ordinary. As far as he was concerned, it was a perfectly normal Thursday afternoon. Families were driving to the museums, there were a few obvious university students on holiday, and here and there business professionals rushing around on their lunch break.

Completely normal.

Braden gave Alex a nudge. "You two should hold on. Dmitri's not going to be holding back once we get off these main roads. If someone starts shooting, duck down and hopefully no one will get hit." Braden took a gun from Wolf, and checked it over, before sending a small grin toward Alex. "Bet you haven't been in a car chase."

Alex shrugged slightly. It depended on what Braden considered as a _car chase_. Being chased by cars? Yes, most definitely. Being chased by cars while still being in a car? No, not yet. But there was no doubt that he would soon be able to add that to his secret life's resume...

Luke paled until he was nearly white-faced, and Alex knew this was completely out of his element. The high thrill of spying and nearly being killed _was not_ his cup of tea. He wasn't an adrenaline junkie of any sort. That much Alex had learned while living with him.

Though if _anyone_ liked being nearly killed... as far as Alex was concerned, they should make an appointment with the nearest shrink.

The radio crackled to life yet again, and Ben's voice came back across it. "A3, from Cobham to A244 will be cleared in twenty minutes. Attempt to lose your pursuit before then. Take A244 up toward Esher, and you'll find Milbourne Lane. A transfer call will be waiting at the crossroad of Milbourne Lane and Orchard Way. From there, take A307 to the destination. Keep radio contact to a minimum unless updates are necessary. We'll be following by camera as much as possible."

Wolf confirmed the orders, and that seemed to be Dmitri's signal to start accelerating. The road was just as congested as it had been before, but there seemed to be more gaps. Either that, or they were able to slip into the gaps that much easier.

As much as Alex wanted to turn around and look, to see if he could spot who was following them, Braden's warning rung in his ears. He could be targeted, and Dmitri had only identified the _one_ car. There were bound to be more. Even possibly ones that were _ahead_ of them. There was no reason for him to be looking when it would only mean a clearer target for the others.

In a matter of minutes, they had cleared M25, and were soon into back road traffic. With the lunch rush coming to a close, the cars on the streets—at least _some_ of the streets—were thinning out, making it that much easier for Dmitri to maneuver. And that much easier for their tails to be spotted.

The first corner caught him off balance, and sent him flying into Luke and the side of the car. Once the car straightened out again, they both automatically searched for something to grab on to—really, _anything—_but there wasn't anything aside from the edge of the seat.

_How Braden had managed to keep upright..._

The car accelerated more, and though they were prepared for the next corner, Alex couldn't help but think that the middle was the worst place to be. There was nothing he could brace himself against. He swayed from side to side as they flew around corners at unthinkable speeds, hoping that Dmitri wouldn't suddenly pull a stop. He had no doubt that the seat belt wouldn't be much use for him then.

"I... _did not_ sign up for this..." Luke muttered, as a corner all but sent him flying against Alex. His knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the seat, further entrenching the idea that spy work was definitely not in Luke's future.

The next few corners seemed a little more controlled, smoother, and Alex took the few moments to try to calm his breathing. It seemed that he was going to earn another adrenaline rush. And after another moment, Dmitri sped up again.

"Two more on our tail." Wolf said, glancing over his shoulder.

"How much time?" Dmitri asked, swinging around another corner and Alex heart jumped to his throat as they narrowly missed getting rear ended by a delivery truck. Luke let out a terrified squeak, but quickly muffled it.

"Five more until it's clear. Start heading toward Cobham."

The acceleration evened out, and Alex relaxed his grip slightly when it was clear that Dmitri had stopped with the sudden turns for the moment. He shared a slightly nervous glance with Luke, before staring out the window and trying to figure out just where he was. It was a section that he was unfamiliar with, and even trying to use M25 as a landmark was practically useless. The road _circled_ London, after all...

It only took a few minutes for them to reach the backed-up traffic that was being forced off of—or refused access to—A3. Their pursuers were at least a few cars behind, and for the moment, there was nothing Dmitri could do to speed up the process. Wolf and Braden rechecked their guns before returning their gaze to the outside world, obviously looking for anyone that might fit the description of another follower.

At the base of the ramp was a relatively simple roadblock to get through, with an entrance designed just for their car. Dmitri accelerated the moment the gap became clear and they broke through the roadblock easily. From there, it was as simple as going down the road at the highest speed possible.

Three miles really wasn't that far.

The roadblock had been successful in knocking out two of the three cars that had attempted to follow them—nail strips tended to slow most vehicles—but there was still the one pesky one that had managed to slip in behind them.

Alex redoubled his grip on the seat edge just in time, as Dmitri executed a speedy—and illegal at any other time—u-turn. He slammed against Luke, pinning him to the door, before whiplashing toward the center of the car as Dmitri straightened out... this time driving at top speeds directly toward their pursuer.

Alex ducked down, hands over the back of his head and neck, anticipating what was coming next. It didn't take very long for Luke to follow suit as well, covering his head. Someone from the other car started shooting at them, and the side windows were anything but bullet proof. Dmitri swerved out of the way of the first hail, and managed to get around behind the following car.

The car swung around again—_must be Dmitri's favorite maneuver..._—and this time _they_ were chasing the other car.

Within ten seconds it was all over.

Dmitri accelerated again, coming up behind the other car, and turned into their bumper, causing them to spin out. He braked suddenly, to keep the car from being involved in the crash, throwing Alex forward in his seat, and only Braden's hand on his chest kept him from slamming into the middle console. At such high speeds, there was no reaction time for the other car, and it spun into a light pole, crumpling around it. Dmitri barely stopped to survey the damage, before speeding off again.

Home free.

* * *

><p>The car came to a stop, mere feet away from their transfer car. Alex swallowed, still shaky from the second adrenaline rush, and allowed himself to be pulled from the car and shoved into the new one. This time, he let Luke have the middle, and leaned against the darkened windows, taking comfort in the cool glass, before his thoughts attempted to catch up with him.<p>

He had just... They had... He was trying to straighten everything out in his head, since it had _all_ happened in a matter of just a few minutes. One moment they had had three cars following them, the next... two had their tires blown, and one was a crumpled mess. It was just... They had nearly... He couldn't think straight anymore. Not after—not after _that_.

Now though, Dmitri was driving at a much more sedate pace, blending in with the other mid-afternoon traffic. It had taken them half an hour to get through the increasing city traffic, to one of the major roads, and by then, Alex was starting to wonder just where they were heading to. Anything to get his mind off what had happened.

It was unlikely that the safe house they were transferring to would be in the middle of the city. It would make protecting them considerably harder. There was no way to tell who on the streets was friend or foe. At the same time, the city was the best place to get rid of any tails, what with plenty of natural road blocks.

Braden had seemed to relax slightly, as had Wolf, so Alex assumed that everything was going according to plan.

If the safe house _wasn't_ in the city, then it was likely that they'd be in the car for an indeterminate amount of time, since they were heading directly for the city center. Occasionally Wolf radioed in to find out about road updates, and traffic jams, but other than that, the radio was silent. The entire car was silent...

Alex let his head rest against the window, knowing that no matter how hard anyone looked, they wouldn't be able to see any sign of him. He was protected and safe for the moment. He closed his eyes, trying to force relaxation into his body. Being tense wasn't helping anything, except make his headache that much worse.

Someone nudged him in the side. "Alec? You okay?"

Alex opened an eye to stare at Luke, and found that Braden was glancing over as well. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just... stressed."

Braden's lips curled into a sardonic grin. "Aren't we all?"

Alex shrugged, and closed his eyes again.

Minutes passed, and Alex almost succeeded in lulling himself into a daze. Almost asleep, but not quite. So he wasn't prepared at all when Dmitri slammed on the brakes. He wasn't prepared when the car behind them attempted the same maneuver that they had pulled to spin the other car out. He wasn't prepared for Dmitri's evasive—and lifesaving—maneuvers.

Alex's eyes snapped open—after the initial spin and swerve—just in time to see the large delivery truck that was hurtling toward his side of the car. The truck plowed into the side of the car, pushing them _through_ the guardrail, and down the embankment of the overpass.

But Alex didn't notice that. He was already unconscious.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:Whew. That was... exhausting to write. I apologize for my lack of knowledge in radio procedures for the military. I took a stab at it though and I hope it didn't turn out too horribly. And... I've never actually been into London, so the chase scene, etc. was done with literary freedom and lots of Google Maps research. Yeah... I think that about ends it for disclaimers...**

**So really, what did you think? A little heavy on the info? Or just right? The first part of the chapter sort of made life seem rather normal, and for Alex I think things were really starting to settle down. Not that things can stay that way, of course. Don't worry though, this accident really isn't _all that_ bad. Compared to others... it'll work out, trust me.**

**Alas, I have a lot of deadlines coming up, and this was the last chapter that I had written before/during my vacation. And the next one is being remarkably stubborn... *sigh* Any way, that means I don't know if the next chapter will be out on time or not. I sincerely hope it will, since uni is starting in just a few short weeks. We shall see.  
><strong>

**On that note, thank you muchly for the reviews! If you have any suggestions, questions, or comments, feel free to leave a review. Any questions, I'll do my best to answer either in the chapter, or in a PM.  
><strong>

**Until next time,  
><strong>

**S.B.L.**


	30. The Calm Before

**Disclaimer: **_Haha. It's mine. All mine.  
><em>

_No, it's not really. And don't you dare try to sue me, because I'm lucky to have a penny to my name. It all Horowitz's._**_  
><em>**

_**Previously...**_

_Ten minutes later, and Alex had almost succeeded in lulling himself to sleep. So he wasn't prepared when Dmitri slammed on the breaks. He wasn't prepared when the car behind them attempted the same maneuver that they had pulled to spin the other car out. He wasn't prepared for Dmitri's evasive—and lifesaving—maneuvers._

_Alex's eyes snapped open—after the initial spin and swerve—just in time to see the large delivery truck that was hurtling toward his side of the car. The truck plowed into the side of the car, pushing it _through_ the guardrail, and down the embankment of the overpass._

_It was too late for him by then. He was already unconscious._

**CHAPTER 30: The Calm Before...  
><strong>

* * *

><p>It was like drifting in a pleasantly calm sea. Buoying him up, and keeping him from touching too hard on the things he'd rather not think about. About how everything had been going so well, for so long, and now, they were all back to square one.<p>

Except this time, the danger was much, _much_, closer.

Alex still wasn't positive that he could think straight. The last few hours had been a blur of events and adrenaline that ended with being separated from Luke and put through a number of medical tests. After determining that he was in no immediate danger of some severe complication, he had been put into a private room, and allowed to sleep.

That had been an hour earlier.

He hadn't seen or heard from another person in the intervening hour, nor had he heard anything about the condition of anyone else that had been in the car. All he knew was that Luke was relatively okay, and he _almost_ remembered seeing Braden before being moved into the waiting ambulance. Then again... it was all rather fuzzy.

With a sigh, he realized that he wasn't about to sleep any longer. The adrenaline had long since worn off, and now he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was times like these when Blunt had taken advantage of him. Had come in, and started spinning stories that Alex was helpless to escape from. Not without that overhanging shadow of guilt. Even now, no matter what he told himself, he couldn't get rid of the nagging sensation that Jones was going to do the exact same thing.

"Alex?" The quiet voice beside his bed startled him, and Alex jerked away, barely stopping himself from physically reacting. Only a firm grip on his shoulder kept him from lashing out. "Now don't do that... you're supposed to be nice to your friends."

Alex glared at Ben, before pushing himself into a sitting position. No matter how many times Ben had been around him while he was sick, Alex wasn't able to shake off the vulnerable feeling he had while lying in a bed. Any bed.

Ben just grinned at him. "Ah, now see? That's more like the Alex I know. Blake was worried about you acting surprisingly complacent."

Alex raised an eyebrow. Normally, people would have been worried if he _wasn't_ acting complacent. They had sedated him before when he hadn't cooperated. "Does he _want_ me to fight whenever I'm faced with doctors?"

"No... he was just concerned that that knock on the head actually knocked some sense into you."

Alex scowled.

"Kidding! Really, he was worried about you acting different from normal, and considering the fact that you're not known for letting new people close..." Ben shrugged. "He was worried that there was something else going on." He sat back in his chair, and surveyed Alex up and down. "You're alright then? Aside from the concussion, of course."

"Yeah... just a headache. That's all."

"No difficulty remembering things? Double vision? Anything?"

Alex shook his head. While the last few hours weren't exactly crystal clear, if he concentrated long enough, he was able to get the gist of what had gone on. He knew that Dr. Sayer had already run through a long series of questions with him, both pertaining to _Alec Pierre_ and _Alex Rider_—though the second set had been in the privacy of the room with no other onlookers. They were just making sure he wasn't behaving abnormally—and he doubted that any of them really knew what _normal_ was.

"Good. Feel like taking a walk then? Luke and Dmitri are down just down the hall. They separated you out because Dr. Sayer wanted to make sure you were completely coherent before letting you loose. National security, and all that."

Alex rolled his eyes and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, wondering absently where his clothes had gone, and _when_ they had been replaced with the hospital pajamas... it certainly wasn't something that he _remembered_.

Ben grabbed a hold of his arm, steadying him, but let go once it was clear that Alex wasn't going to crumple underneath his own weight. He seemed to understand that the last thing Alex wanted was for someone to be hovering over him, just waiting for something to happen. Not that anything _would_ happen...

Alex glanced up and down the hallway, only partially surprised to find that it was empty. "Is everyone else... okay?"

"Relatively speaking."

"Relatively?"

"Scrapes, bruises, a concussion here and there. Nothing too major. Dmitri got the worst of it, but it's nothing that a few days of taking it easy won't fix. I have a feeling he'll be cleared for duty before we leave here though." Ben nodded down the hallway. "They're just around the corner."

Alex headed down the hall, trying to figure out what _the worst of it_ could mean. Absolutely anything, if he thought about it. But if Dmitri was going to be cleared for duty... it certainly couldn't be _too_ bad. "Why'd... how'd they find us? At the house, I mean. And _who_ was it, anyway?"

"It was SCORPIA." Ben grimaced slightly. "They found us because there was an inside agent feeding them information."

Alex repressed a sigh. "From _the bank_."

Ben nodded. "They didn't know you were there, they were just after me. Well... they didn't before now... One of the attackers got away, and most likely notified their boss that you were present. That's why it was so important to get you out of there."

"But they still caught up with us. Despite getting out of there so quickly after the attack."

"Unfortunately..." Ben frowned slightly, his gaze wandering. "I just don't understand _how_ they followed you. Even after switching cars. The agent they had planted at the bank wasn't one that knew how to access city cameras, and even if he knew, he didn't have the right clearance. Alarms would have gone off immediately, and there were no bugs in the system. They were getting information from somewhere else."

"Their last move... wasn't planned out well. It seemed like... a last chance move. Running us off the road didn't really get them any closer to their goals." Alex paused. He was missing a number of minutes after the crash, due to being unconscious. After being run off, the next thing he remembered was a paramedic trying to get him to respond. It was entirely possible that SCORPIA had tried _something else_ as well, and he just didn't know about it. "Right?"

Ben shook his head. "Running you off the road would have worked—if you hadn't switched cars. It was a switch to an _armored_ car. If you hadn't switched, the impact of the truck hitting would have killed both you and Dmitri—"

Alex gulped.

"Not to mention that an unidentified car attempted to shoot out the windows after the crash, before leaving the area. They were determined to kill, and only _the armor_ stopped them."

"So they definitely knew who I was?"

"No..." Ben glanced up and down the hall, stopping in front of a closed door. He grabbed onto Alex's arm, turning him to face him. "Don't worry about it for now, okay? You're safe here. Only doctors and nurses that have been specifically cleared will be allowed access to you—and believe me, they have no idea who you might really be—and there is more than one team watching the building. Both MI6 _and_ SAS got hit by this, and they don't take kindly to someone sneaking in under their noses. I don't know all the details yet... but I will later. Just... take care about what you say around Luke. He's still a little shaken up."

Alex nodded. He would have been surprised if Luke _hadn't_ been shaken up some. He had been positively pale during the car chase. Completely out of his element. He wasn't prepared for the high-speed, high-risk element of living with spies that were _wanted_. Of course, he didn't have any idea of the _real_ reason _Alec_ was under protection.

And the only reason Luke had been there in the first place was because Alex _needed_ someone with him. Like he was some small child that needed minding. Luke would have _never_ been in the situation if it hadn't been for Alex's nightmares. He would have _never_ been pulled into the mess...

Ben sighed, and put a hand on Alex's shoulder. "Don't think like that." He smirked at Alex's scowl. "Your thoughts are written all over your face."

Alex sighed. "He shouldn't have been there. _At all_."

"Listen—Luke and the rest of us... we all made decisions to help you. And yeah, sometimes that might not be the safest thing, but there was absolutely nothing you could have done about it. It's not your fault. If anyone's to blame, it's the people that are after you. It's not like you walked up to them and tried to join them."

Alex winced, remembering that that was just what he had done with SCORPIA. He had joined them because he hadn't truly understood. He had just wanted to know about his family... but it had all turned out to be so disastrous.

"Things went wrong today, but _no one_ got hurt." Ben gripped his shoulder, forcing Alex to make eye contact. "You've got to remember that, and you _can't_ blame yourself."

Alex bit his lip slightly, before nodding. _No blaming allowed_. He had heard that so many times from Ben, but each time it seemed to get harder and harder to believe completely.

"Kid, they _all_ want you safe. Even Luke. Whether it's from people in the outside world, or your own mind... Don't try to push them away just because you're afraid someone's going to get hurt. They're resilient, just like you."

"Yeah... I... get it." He glanced down the hall, noticing that a nurse at the nurses' station was watching them curiously. "Can we go in now? I think... I think I want to sit down..." He wasn't sure how long they had been standing in the hall, but it was long enough for the pounding in his head to start up again. Dr. Sayer _had_ said that it was likely that the headache would come back, and that if he stayed standing for too long, he'd start to get dizzy. He just hadn't expected it so _soon_.

"Headache?" Ben asked.

Alex nodded.

Ben opened the door in front of them, and sent a sly grin toward Alex. "Si vous êtes fatigué, dis-moi." _If you get tired, tell me_.

Alex rolled his eyes, and Ben all but pushed him into the room. The occupants immediately looked up from whatever it was they were doing, before deciding that Alex really wasn't _all that_ big of a deal. It _was_ slightly amusing how many people they had fit into one small room. Really, Dmitri and Luke were the only patients, but the rest of K-Unit, Mendelssohn, Braden, and—oddly—Levendis were in strategic positions around the room.

"We were wondering if we needed to send out a search party." Dmitri said, grinning at the two of them. "Did it _really_ take that long to get from down the hall to here?"

Ben rolled his eyes, and gave Alex another light shove toward a chair. "Nah, he just wasn't really awake when I went to get him."

Alex slouched down in a chair, avoiding the three gazes that had snapped onto him as he crossed the room. It was like being under a microscope and being dissected... he shuddered slightly, and decided that it was best _not_ to follow that line of thinking.

"You're okay?" A quiet voice asked, and Alex's head snapped up a little too quickly. Ben was already bantering with Dmitri and Braden, giving cover noise to any other conversation. Alex just hadn't expected conversation to come his direction so quickly.

Of course, that was to be expected. Luke's bed was directly next to where Alex was sitting, and he had clearly been worried earlier. But now... Alex wasn't so sure that the worry was misplaced. Luke looked considerably worse for the wear, with a rather spectacular bruise covering the right side of his face. No stitches though... it seemed that only Alex and Dmitri had earned _that_ privilege.

"Alec?"

Alex blinked quickly, realizing that he had just been staring. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... just a headache."

Luke smirked, seeming to come back to his normal self a little more. "Just a headache... you were unconscious for nearly ten minutes."

Alex shrugged. "Why do you think those doctors have had at me for the last five hours? They wouldn't have let me out of bed if they weren't absolutely positive that the worst side effects I'll have will be a headache and dizziness. Besides, _you're_ still in bed."

"Guess so... but it's not like I'm _required_ to. Just supposed to 'take it easy.'" He flicked his fingers in Alex's direction. "You're the one that looks like a strong breeze will knock you over."

The teasing tone brought a smile to his face, and Alex found himself relaxing slightly. To think that everything had been normal only a few short hours ago...

* * *

><p>After a couple of hours, Ben had made it clear that Alex needed to get back to his own room and get some sleep. He had only half protested, before realizing that the partial exhaustion was making his tendency to dizziness even worse. Luke probably would have laughed at him, if it weren't for the fact that he had already drifted off... and Alex had stubbornly forced himself to stay awake.<p>

When he made it back to his own room, Dr. Sayer had checked him over, gave him medicine, and ordered him to bed for the remainder of the night. He was more than happy to follow those orders, and quickly fell asleep.

He was half surprised when he woke up to find that there hadn't been any nightmares, and he didn't _feel_ like anyone had drugged him. It seemed that, for the time being, he was safe from the nightmares. While he hadn't had any recently, he had half expected something from the day before to trigger one. Not that he was complaining...

A nurse brought in some breakfast for him, and when he was halfway done, Ben joined him in the room again.

"Good sleep?" He asked, stealing a piece of fruit off of Alex's tray.

"Yeah."

Ben sat down in the chair next to the bed. "I suppose you'd like to get some answers from me."

Alex shrugged. He had a feeling that whether he asked or not, he was going to get answers. The ones that he was _allowed_ to know the answer to, that is. If he wanted answers that Ben wasn't allowed to give, there wasn't anything he could do about it.

"Well first, Mrs. Jones sends her deepest apologies to you—and Luke as well—for the fact that you had to be involved yesterday. Her priority really is to keep you as safe as possible. Unfortunately, _that mess_ revealed not only the safe house, but the fact that _Alec Pierre_ is under the protection of MI6. We're guessing that the jump from Alec Pierre to Alex Rider isn't too far in the future."

"So my cover is basically blown."

"More or less."

Alex ran a hand through his hair. Not good news at all. There had always been some amount of protection provided by the alias. Simurgh's attempts to get him were no doubt less than what they would try if they knew who he _really_ was. And if in some off chance that they did get him, they would be after Alec Pierre. Not Alex Rider. His chances of escaping were that much higher when they didn't know the full extent of his skills.

But if someone figured it out... He would be trapped. Possibly killed. Most likely, tortured _until_ he died. And there would be no hope. They would have him so completely... so... so... utterly helpless.

"Six people were arrested from the car chase, unfortunately three of them managed to take suicide pills before anyone could question them. Once we figured out what was happening we managed to get the pills away. One is still unconscious from the crash, but the other two are being held at MI6." Ben leaned forward on his knees. "Unfortunately, the car that rammed you and the driver of the delivery truck got away. And the delivery truck was reported as stolen a few hours earlier, so there are no leads there."

Alex picked at his food for a moment. "Have they... learned anything?"

"Not much, unfortunately. One is ex-SCORPIA, though the three that killed themselves were as well. They're all rather tightlipped. It's going to take more than one night to get anything out of them. Even then, I doubt we'll learn anything."

Alex nodded. "They're trained to resist. I suppose they were _clean_ when they were captured...?"

"Yeah."

"So we've learned absolutely nothing, endangered everyone's lives, and have nothing to show for it." Alex scowled down at his breakfast. "Brilliant." Not that they had _asked_ to be attacked...

"Well..."

Alex's eyes snapped up and focused on Ben. He was fidgeting, like he knew something more, but was cautious about telling Alex. Either it was something he wasn't _supposed_ to tell, or was to use his own judgment about. "What _aren't_ you telling me?"

Ben sighed, before sitting back in his chair, surveying Alex. He seemed to be looking for something, and Alex didn't hesitate to show his dislike for Ben holding _anything_ back. "There's been a rumor... going around the espionage circles, about Alex Rider. Everyone knew that he... _died_ in the bombing. It was on the news. But in the past month, certain influential people are starting to think it's a ruse—the most suspicious being ex-SCORPIA leaders and agents allied with Simurgh. The agent at the bank... had access to classified files, and was feeding information of interest to an ex-SCORPIA agent by the name of Yermalov."

Alex swore under his breath. Yermalov had been one of the teachers at Malagosto, and while Alex hadn't had considerable amount of contact with the man, he didn't doubt that his secret was that much closer to getting out if the man had enough pieces. "Please tell me Jones wasn't stupid enough to have a file on Pierre."

Ben grimaced, but nodded slowly. "Only what we had from our preliminary outlines though. The same as what MI5 had."

"And if there was a mole in MI5 as well, they _knew_ that Pierre had been transferred to MI6's custody, and that _nothing ever came of it_. I didn't exactly go into _the bank_ looking like a prisoner." Alex rubbed a hand against his forehead. Things were just getting worse. "They're going to suspect something's up, especially now that they know MI6 was protecting _me_!"

"Woah, calm down, Alex." Ben attempted to put a calming hand on Alex's shoulder, but he immediately shook it off.

"You don't get it! This is _my life_ that's getting ruined. As long as _Alex Rider_ was _dead_, they had no reason to come after me. I could always pick up another alias, another appearance, and disappear until I was safe... but the moment they know—_the moment !_—they'll hunt me until they find me. SCORPIA ne pardonne jamais. SCORPIA n'oublie jamais." _SCORPIA never forgives. SCORPIA never forgets_. "They won't _care_ if Alex Rider drops off the face of the earth, because they'll be _positive_ that he's still around _somewhere_."

"Alex..."

There wouldn't be a single place safe in the world. SCORPIA had ex-agents all around the world, and while they weren't _all_ allied with Simurgh, he was willing to bet that some of the old leaders still claimed allegiance to those members. And there was more than just SCORPIA that had had to be appeased by MI6. The Triads, for one. More and more people that could be out for his blood the moment he _came back to life_. All because MI6 had dragged him into something he shouldn't have been a part of in the first place.

An alias wouldn't get him anywhere either, even if he changed his name, his accent, his appearance, and history. There would be tells. There were always tells. Even by the best in the business. Most often though, people didn't get known well enough that anyone could detect the tells. But he was only a teenager. Only a kid.

_Not_ the best in the business. _Not_ skilled in hiding tells from the rest of the world. _Not_ one that could just change his life on a whim. Especially not now. Not with the threat of crippling seizures and nightmares hanging over his head.

And if, _somehow_, they managed to get a hold of a medical record for _Alec Pierre_ and then connect it with Alex Rider... They would _know_. If he was a superhero, then his weakness was the fact that he couldn't go a night without his medicine. His weakness was that the thought of losing the one person he trusted, was enough for his own mind to rebel on him. His weakness was that no matter what he did, he was stuck _right where he was_.

There was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

They would find him. Connect the pieces together. Use his weaknesses against him, until he was nothing more than gibbering idiot, who was so completely messed up that even if he _was_ rescued, there would be no hope. No hope because he would be broken so completely and utterly that there would be no way he could ever be released back into society. Broken by the seizures that would surely wrack his body for days on end, until he just... didn't wake up anymore. Because it didn't matter. There was no hope.

"Alex!" A hand slapped him across the face, and Alex jerked back from the contact. Somehow, Ben had moved the tray away without Alex noticing, and now held on firmly to both of his shoulders, ignoring the bruises that were already there. "Listen to me. Calm. Down."

Alex blinked rapidly, still trying to pull away from the hands that were holding him in place.

"Take a deep breath." Ben instructed, keeping a steady gaze on Alex. "You need to calm down. Panicking about something that... _could be,_ won't get you anywhere. Except maybe sedated by the doctors. And I _know_ you don't want that."

Alex clenched his fists, willing himself to calm down. The last thing he needed was for the doctors to decide that sedating him would help him heal best. He hated that more than anything, and with the state things were in now, he wasn't too sure he _trusted_ anyone in the hospital. Even if they _had_ been checked out by MI6... it was clear that MI6 wasn't mole free.

"Trust me for a moment, will you? You're fine here, and _I'm_ not going to let anything happen to you. Even if they do somehow figure out who you are, we're not going to let them get you. Even if that means I have to spirit you away from MI6." He met Alex's eyes for a long moment. "You're safe. Stop worrying about everything."

"You'd... do that?" _For me?_

Ben relaxed his grip and nodded.

Alex gave him a shaky smile, trying to convey what he couldn't put into words. In the last two years, Ben had been the only person that both showed he _cared_, and was able to actually do something to help. Even though he had spent months hiding out in Ben's flat, it had never really occurred to him that Ben's protectiveness was _worse_ than Jack's. Ben was willing to do just about _anything_ to keep Alex safe, even if that meant involving his brother in some ways... Willing to leave family, friends, and a somewhat stable environment, if it meant getting Alex safely away from everything.

It was different from what everyone else had said or done...

"We can finish this later..." Ben said, starting to get up from the bed, his intentions obvious.

"No... wait. I'm still... curious."

Ben paused and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

Alex sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to reorder his thoughts. "What... what happened at the safe house? How did they find us? Because of the rogue agent?"

Ben nodded sharply, before moving over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Levendis brought the latest news early this morning. They found a tracker on the car that was sent to pick me up from the last mission, disguised in the number plate using some stolen technology. Smithers was furious that someone had adapted his technology to use _against_ MI6."

Alex nodded. He could imagine the gadget maker to be rather protective of his inventions. Or rather, _toys_, as they were... "And that tracked back to the rogue agent?"

"Easily done. The supplies went missing a few weeks ago, but there wasn't too much fuss made. Things like that happen fairly regularly down there. Things are always blowing up, you know." Ben shrugged. "The agent also had fairly good working knowledge of the most recent safe house procedures and protections, except for what Smithers came out with in the past month—and what's been highly classified. The silent alarm was what kept us from being taken completely unaware."

"Pure luck."

"No. Not _pure luck_. Things are classified like that for a reason. No one person is supposed to know _all_ the protections, just in case there _is_ a mole. Anyway, the attackers made a severe tactical error."

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Too few men. If there had been more, then we would have been in trouble. It was only a team of four. Two upstairs, two downstairs. Micah and Sebastian got the ones upstairs—they came crawling up the side of the house, by the way—and Mendelssohn got the one just outside of the kitchen. The fourth one escaped."

Alex nodded slowly, their intentions slowly starting to take shape in his mind. "That could have been their plan in the first place. To trick everyone into leaving the house. Then they just had to get everyone away from the house, disable the car, and they had you. Or me. Or... whoever they were after." He shrugged slightly. The plan made more sense than his original suspicions, and _should have_ worked, except they probably hadn't been counting on the fact that there were multiple cars.

"They were definitely after me. At least, originally. When we left the safe house, they followed my car first, because it was the one that had the tracker. It seemed that they got updated orders, because they started to follow yours instead. We still don't know how they managed to follow you so effectively."

"There's no way they could have known I was there?"

Ben shook his head. "The rogue agent knew nothing about the occupants of the safe house. We've made sure of that. All he knew was that it was a safe house, and that it was the place I had been taken to. He had no guarantee that I was even there... Jones has now officially placed me in complete protection, so something like this can't happen again. I'm not going out again. Not for a long time."

A wave of relief washed over Alex. He had been unconsciously tense at the thought of Mrs. Jones sending Ben out again to do some sort of reconnaissance. Something to find out more about their attackers. Now though, there was no doubt that Ben would stick around. "What about Luke?"

"Oh, he's staying. We're lucky we got in the visit to our parent last month though, because it's not likely to calm down around here for a while. Hopefully, Luke will be able to return to university in the fall though." Ben glanced back at the mostly empty tray. "Still hungry? Or are you going to take another nap?"

Alex glared at him, before settling back against the pillows. "Nap, I guess. When are we getting out of here?"

Ben smirked. "Sometime this afternoon. And there's going to be a bit of a surprise."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "A good one?"

"Well... maybe. Depends on how you look at it." He grinned. "But I know one thing. Luke's going to be _thrilled_."

* * *

><p>Alex stared as the wind buffeted his hair into his eyes. He really couldn't believe what he was seeing. He resisted the urge to rub at them to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Ben's grin and Luke's jaw dropped expression were certainly real though. There was no doubt that Ben was enjoying this little <em>surprise<em>.

A helicopter.

He wasn't quite sure what to feel like. On one hand, past experiences with helicopters were both good and bad. People had used them both for and against him. As long as no one tried to shoot them down though... it would probably go fairly well. Maybe it would be the one _relaxed_ ride he would get...

"We're getting to ride in _that_? Awesome!" Luke's enthusiasm seemed to put a smile on almost everyone's face, minus Wolf who was staring at the helicopter with undisguised dislike. "Where are we going? How long will it be?"

Ben chuckled. "The flight will be just over an hour. And we're going to stop in Wales to switch transport, before continuing to the new safe house."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Stopping in _hell_?" He asked, quiet enough that Luke didn't hear him. Not that he was listening in the first place...

"Of course. But not the main area. Out by the manor." Ben gave Alex a nudge toward the pad. "It's a fairly short ride, and we've been reassured that no one—and I mean _no one_—knows that we're moving today, or our location."

"What's stopping them from just watching the hospital?"

"Well... since we're not at St. Dominic's, they have no reliable way of knowing where we are. Trust me when I say that the route to _get_ to the hospital was rather convoluted. The paramedics weren't extremely happy about that, especially with you being semi-unresponsive. Anyway, we're at an ordinary hospital on the opposite side of London from the crash." He had to raise his voice as they got closer to the whirling blades. "It's perfectly safe, and no one in their right mind would try to shoot down a helicopter in the middle of London."

Alex rolled his eyes. There were plenty of people that _weren't_ in their right mind, but it was a rather moot point now. Everything had been decided without his input. There was no need for it now. "So I take it, Dmitri's been cleared for active duty?" He nearly had to yell, to get the words across to Ben.

Ben just grinned and nodded, before giving him another firm push toward the helicopter. Alex climbed in, and slid into a seat next to Luke—who was actively looking out the side, looking like a schoolboy on a field trip.

Once everyone was inside and strapped in, the pilot lifted off, and they were soon flying over the tall buildings of London, heading for the unknown.

Alex just sat back, trying to ignore the noise and excitement coming from Luke. Just this once, he wanted to be normal. He wanted to have real reactions, the way any normal teenager would. But he couldn't. Everything was overshadowed by previous experience. Experience that he would rather forget about at the moment, because quite a few helicopters had ended with him blowing them up.

He'd rather this one _didn't_ blow up. Even if the ride was only supposed to last an hour, it was going to be _long ride_...

* * *

><p>"Alec?" Something shook him, and he turned away, trying to push the annoying feeling away. "Alec? We're here." He wasn't truly listening to the voice. After all, it was one of the few times that he had actually been able to completely relax. He didn't have to worry, and right now, sleep sounded <em>so<em> inviting...

Unfortunately, the other person didn't seem to understand. "Come on. Don't you want to eat something?"

"Mmph..." He pulled away, squeezing his eyes shut, before relaxing again. He could sleep here... he didn't need food...

"Alec." Something poked into his side, and he couldn't help but pull away violently. "You don't want me to carry you in, do you? Like a little kid? You know I will if I have to."

Alex groaned, before blinking awake. Ben rarely resorted to threats, but the words had cut through his sleepy haze. "We're... there? Here?" He asked, still trying to make out anything aside from the extremely bright lights in the back of the van. It seemed that it was only him and Ben left.

"Yeah, I think you dozed off about three hours ago." Ben grinned at him. "You sleep like a _rock_."

Alex snorted. "Not usually." He stretched, feeling the satisfying click as his joints moved into place, and sent a lazy grin in Ben's direction. "But then, I don't normally expect to be driving for hours. Where are we, anyway?"

"In Snowdonia, east of Tywyn." At Alex's blank look, he expanded. "Middle of nowhere, Wales. North of Brecon."

Alex nodded, though he still had only a vague idea of where they actually were. Not that it mattered... He climbed out of the car, noting that the sun was making its last appearance over the horizon. It made his first look of the house they had arrived at somewhat picturesque. With the disappearing light illuminating it, it seemed almost impossible to imagine it as anything more than a normal house.

Of course, there was no doubt that someone was already in the surveillance area, watching the cameras that were most definitely watching him. The rest of the house was probably booby trapped, just _waiting_ for someone to try to break in. And it would be quite the chore to sneak up on the house, since the land was clear except for hills for _miles_ around.

There was one little thing that he didn't quite understand though. "It's a little small, isn't it?"

Ben laughed, before gesturing toward the house. "It's MI6's latest renovation project. For small to medium sized parties with maximum security. Unfortunately, we fall under the _large_ category, so there's going to be some bunking together."

Alex eyed the house speculatively. "Didn't we already have that at the last place?"

"Well, _you_ still had your own room. And so did Mendelssohn and Braden."

He sighed. "Not anymore then?"

"Nope. Mendelssohn and Braden have a room, Dmitri and Micah will switch off with Sebastian and Blake—like usual—and you, Luke, and I will have the last one." Ben shrugged slightly. "It's going to be a rather crowded few days."

That was the first hint that Alex had heard that the place was only temporary. "This isn't the end of the road?"

"No, thank goodness. We'll head up north of Glasgow in a few weeks. It'll give K-Unit a chance for some time off. They've been working full time on this since mid-March, so they've more than earned a break. Jones said D-Unit would work with us for a few weeks—so your cover will be more important than ever. As far as they'll know, you are just Alec who needs protection. Nothing more."

"So things are just going to get more complicated."

Ben shrugged. "Depends on if you let it, or not."

Alex sighed. It had been nearly four months since he had been essentially _imprisoned_. Four months of seeing barely anything more than the same nine people—with few exceptions here and there. It was enough to drive him nearly insane. He _wasn't_ antisocial, and living with the same people day in and day out was starting—only just though—to grate on his nerves. Maybe having some new faces around wouldn't be too bad.

He could always annoy them to death if he got _too_ bored...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: *le gasp* I honestly didn't think I was going to finish this chapter. And it didn't turn out anywhere _near_ as good as what I was hoping... oh well. Sorry that it's late, but I'm leaving home in less than a week, and tons of things suddenly appeared that I needed to finish. Once again, there wasn't much _(any)_ action, but I can guarantee that the next chapter will have plenty, including some snarky Alex. Twill be fun. And I'll get it up as soon as I get around to finishing it...**

**And I need to run now, so... THANK YOU FOR READING! AND REVIEWING! ('cause I _know_ you will...)**

**S.B.L.**


	31. The Storm

**Disclaimer: **_I'm too tired to come up with something witty. So yeah. It's n__ot mine._

**_Previously..._**

_"So things are just going to get more complicated."_

_Ben shrugged. "Depends on if you let it, or not."_

_Alex sighed. It had been nearly four months since he had been essentially _imprisoned_. Four months of seeing barely anything more than the same nine people—with few exceptions here and there. It was enough to drive him nearly insane. He _wasn't_ antisocial, and living with the same people day in and day out was starting—only just though—to grate on his nerves. Maybe having some new faces around wouldn't be too bad._

**CHAPTER 31: ...The Storm**

* * *

><p>Only three more days.<p>

Three more days of being crammed inside a too small house with restless soldiers and spies. Three days until they would be able to move to a better safe house, where they wouldn't have to be _constantly_ on high alert. Three more days until everyone could rest easy again. Three more days until K-Unit would finally get the break they deserved.

Three more days.

Alex was _positive_ that he wasn't the only one looking forward to the break in the tension in the house. Luke had chattered some, but nowhere near as much as he once had. Everyone had toned down a lot since the _near death experience_, and there was no doubt that they were looking forward to being able to relax again. Well… _sort of_ relax.

Alex sighed and thumped his head down on the one and only textbook the retrieval team had forwarded to their temporary home—maths. He could have sworn that someone was out to get him if that was the only reading material they provided him with. Ben had just shrugged it off with a smirk, before reassuring Alex that the rest of the books and half finished coursework would be waiting at the new safe house.

It wasn't that Alex was worried about not getting his textbooks, or having to redo that coursework, he just wanted something to do that didn't involve studying. He wanted to feel useful again. When it seemed like the only thing he could do was sit around, waiting for someone to attack, _and then _when something finally happened, to not do anything… it felt pointless. No one—except maybe Luke—understood that he was past the stage of needing to be shuffled into the furthest corner of the house, into protection, was the last thing he needed. When the attack had occurred, he had been so out of practice that he couldn't _help_ but freeze up.

That was over now. He wasn't going to let something like that happen again.

He was _independent_ after all. His doctor had set him free weeks earlier, and as far as Dr. Sayer was concerned, his knee was healed. There were no restrictions on his movement or normal activities. Normal activities that included practicing his much neglected karate… and bringing it back up to standard.

It was just a step closer to having his own independence. Independence that he wasn't going to get, if certain _caring_ individuals didn't back off and let him have some space to breathe. Independence he wasn't going to get if Simurgh and SCORPIA were never taken care of.

The only reason he hadn't actually _done_ something when the ex-SCORPIA agents attacked the safe house, was because he had been so shocked to see them there. Shocked that they had actually caught up with him—even though they were really after Ben—and were still actively hunting for him. He had fallen into complacency. The knowledge of _why_ he was in the safe house had been pushed to the back of his mind as he focused on recovering from all the injuries. He hadn't _forgotten_, just been convinced that he was _safe_.

Nowhere was safe.

He didn't plan to make that mistake again.

The past few days of tension though, had brought Alex some much needed solitude though. The others _weren't_ paying attention to what Alex was up to, as long as he was in the house. They were more worried about what was happening outside the walls of the safe house.

He had heard the reports coming in every morning that talked about the sudden pick up in attacks around the UK on former and current civil servants, politicians, and MI5/MI6 agents. But it wasn't just the British government that was having problems…

While working on his katas, Alex had learned far more than he would have wished. The revolutionary movements were reviving throughout Northern Africa, coming back from their temporary decline and turning more deadly than ever. The evidence was clear. If Simurgh was controlling those countries, or influencing them in any way, their reach was _far_.

And as far as Alex could tell, MI6 couldn't compare in any way. They were _barely_ keeping up, not ahead. They needed to be ahead if they really wanted to make a difference.

It was clear that the others were worried, despite the fact that they attempted to change the topic of their whispered conversations whenever Alex or Luke entered the room. Never quick enough for Alex though. He _knew_ their nonchalance about the odds of another attack was faked. He had picked up enough through the doors to know that there was a serious concern about _another _mole within MI6. One that could have access to information that Simurgh or SCORPIA would pay top dollar to get.

To top it off, Ben couldn't really explain things, because there was always the possibility that Luke would be around. Luke _couldn't_ know the true nature of why _Alec_ was in protection. In the smaller house, it was considerably harder to keep secrets—and to have private conversations. Alex wouldn't have been too surprised to find out that Luke already suspected that there was something more to the story…

Alex checked his watch, surprised to find that it was getting late. With no windows in the room, it was hard to tell time, but he still seemed to know exactly when there was just enough time left. So far, no one had walked in on him practicing his katas—and that suited him. He was attempting to hone his skills back to the near perfection that he had lived with for so many months. And nobody had noticed him pulling away from them.

After reassuring himself that there was no one nearby, Alex slid out of his chair, and into the beginning stance of a kata. The fluid movements calmed him in a way that he had been unable to reach in the past few months, having been so... _confined_. It was likely no one had even considered the fact that _feeling_ confined hadn't helped with his mental problems—or his nightmares.

He knew he had half an hour. Luke always came up at the same time, meaning that Alex would have ten minutes to shower. He didn't really _need_ to keep it a secret, but he was almost afraid of what someone would say. That someone would accidentally discourage him—even if they meant well.

While the others might still be wary of him, wary of the things they had seen in the past few months, he was sure that he was finally getting better. He thought that the proof that he hadn't been anxious the entire time he had been in the hospital, was proof that he was starting to see other people as less of a threat. He hadn't even had nightmares after the attack, something that would have _surely _plagued him before. No one else seemed to understand that though. Not that he had tried to explain...

He pushed the rest of the thoughts out of his mind, and focused on the katas. It was calming, relaxing, and would ground him for the time being. Goodness knew that he needed it.

* * *

><p>Alex shook his wet hair out of his eyes, determined that it was as dry as it was going to get, and headed back to the bedroom. His hair was almost long enough to tie back now, and he knew he needed to get around to trimming it sometime. He had reapplied the dye again—another of the few things the retrieval team had brought—and was sure that <em>if<em> he ever decided to go back to blonde, it was going to be quite the adjustment period.

He had just flopped down on his bed, when the Ben burst into the room, obviously in some sort of rush.

"Get up." Ben said, immediately heading toward the wardrobe. "We need to leave."

Alex stared at him, confused. "What?"

"A group has been spotted, and they're coming our way. They're too close for us to all get away. So I'm getting you and Luke out." Ben tossed a sweatshirt at Alex. "The others are going to hold them off, to give us as much lead time as possible."

Alex swallowed. "How close?"

"A few minutes. They might already have someone close by to get anyone trying to escape." He stuffed a few necessities into a bag, including Alex's medicine, before turning toward the door. "We won't have any way to contact MI6, not until Sunday at the soonest. And we can't know for sure if we've been compromised from _inside_."

Alex stuffed his shoes on, and followed Ben out the door and down the hall. Ben stopped by one of the cupboards and rummaged into it. It wasn't until he pulled out two guns that Alex realized just how serious this was.

Ben passed a gun to Alex. "Don't let Luke see that unless absolutely necessary. We're still trying to keep your cover with him." He checked over his own gun, before putting it in a holster Alex hadn't noticed before. "I hope you don't need it, but just in case... we might be on the run for a while."

Alex nodded and tucked the gun away, hoping not to need it. Maybe this would give him a chance to do something more useful than just sitting around…

"What's going on?" Luke asked, catching up with them in the hall. "Braden said something about leaving. I thought we weren't going until the weekend."

"Plans changed." Ben tossed a jacket toward him. "We're leaving now, the others will follow later. I'll explain more once we're actually moving." He grabbed a set of keys off a counter, before heading toward the front door. "Stay right behind me, don't run, look completely normal. Dmitri is prepared to give us cover fire if they start attacking. We just have to cross the yard."

_Of course_... the one downside to the brand new safe house. The attached garage had yet to be added, so there was an open distance between the house and car. Just large enough that someone could technically pick them off before they got too far.

Ben flicked the lights off in the hall, and then opened the front door and ushered them onto the porch. The lights on the porch didn't automatically turn on—Alex suspected that someone was controlling the lights to keep any signs of their departure from appearing. As long as they made it across the lawn without someone noticing, they would be fine.

It was clear out, but the sun had set over the horizon, making it darker than it would have been if there had been clouds. The skies were working with them—for the moment. Of course, that might not matter at all if anyone nearby had heat sensors. They'd just light up like a flare...

They were nearly halfway across the lawn before the first shot rang out. Alex fought his immediate reaction to duck and cover. There wasn't anywhere for him to hide, he was in the open after all. For now, it was best to get to the car, as intact as possible.

Return fire, coming from one of the few windows on the second floor, gave them a little leeway, and Alex was able to take a few—slightly lengthened—steps toward the car, before another shot came their way. This time, they weren't all so lucky.

Ben spun out of the way, swearing up a storm under his breath. Alex didn't need the light to see where Ben had been hit, it was obvious. His other hand was pressed against his arm, most likely to try to stop whatever bleeding there was.

Alex crossed the last few steps, and crouched down beside the car and Ben. As far as he was concerned, all pretenses of acting normal were gone. For now, their best bet was to get away as quickly as possible, and let K-Unit distract the attackers. Give them a clean escape.

"Here." Ben shoved the keys into Alex's hand. "Drive. I know you can." He glanced at Luke for a moment, before staring at Alex. "Drive like the devil's on your tail. I've got to—" A muffled curse slipped out, before he mastered himself again. "—get this... wrapped up. Just follow the road out."

Alex nodded, unlocking the doors in a movement, and ushered Luke and Ben into the back. Then he slid into the front seat, cast a cursory glance at the controls to figure out where some key components were, before starting the car up and pulling on the seatbelt.

This was nothing. Sure, it had been more than a year since he had driven... but it wasn't something he forgot easily. _Ian_ had made sure that he could drive; well before he had ever reached double digits—just in case. The mindset was easy enough to slip back into. Just a few changes for each and every car...

At least it wasn't a jeep...

Alex smirked to himself, before stepping on the pedal, and leaving the safe house behind. This was his chance to finally do something. Even _if_ it was just to escape. He was getting them to safety. This wasn't passive anymore.

_Devil on your tail_... Alright. Alex ignored the fact that he had no idea where the road was going to, or if there could be any road blocks on it, but then... Ben had asked. He would receive.

Alex sent a glance over his shoulder. Luke was holding a light in the back, so Ben could see the wound. A flash of blood made Alex look back at the road immediately. It was obvious that Luke was looking anywhere _except_ at Ben as well. "Are you okay?"

Ben grunted. "Had worse."

Alex snorted, and refocused on the road. The one downside to falling asleep on the ride in was that he had no idea _where_ he was. There were no landmarks that he could recognize, even if it had been light out. He was practically driving blind, with the headlights dimmed as much as possible, without putting them into too much danger.

"Take the second left." Ben said. "It's fairly... straight." He hissed slightly, before sighing. "Forgot how much these... _hurt_." The light flickered out in the back, and after a moment, Ben joined Alex in the front. "I'd say I could take over now, but I think its best that we just keep going. I'll try to give you some warning about any curves coming up."

Alex nodded. He was straining to see the road in front of the car, and had no way of knowing what was coming up, until he was right on top of it. Hopefully, whoever was after them hadn't had enough forethought to place a roadblock. If they had, they would have the advantage.

The turn came up, and Alex was surprised to find that it was a gravel road. "Are you sure this is right?"

"Yeah, it leads to a main road. We should be able to get out this way."

Faint images of trees flew by them, as Alex felt a little more daring. He wasn't driving _fast_, but fast enough that they were actually making some headway. K-Unit and the spies' blockade would only work for so long. It was up to him to actually get them away. Something that would be so much easier if he could actually use the headlights...

The car jittered over potholes, rattling Alex to the teeth, but he refused to slow down. Every second brought their pursuers closer to finding them. He _would_ lengthen the gap. It _was_ possible. Adrenaline was already quickening his reaction times, make it that much easier to spot the holes in the road and avoid them.

Despite all that, when the main road appeared in front of him, he was more than surprised. He hadn't realized that they were that close. There wasn't any option but to turn, so Alex headed in the direction that would take them the furthest away from the safe house. He had no idea _where_ they were supposed to be going, but had a feeling that just about anywhere would do.

"Lights." Ben reminded him, and Alex gladly turned them on again. Able to see more than a few feet in front of the car, he was able to speed up as well. "Do you know any high speed driving?"

Alex grinned. "Learned when I was ten." He accelerated until the needle tipped over past the 75 mph mark. "The Autobahn was a great place to learn." It had been one of his summer trips with Ian. One of the few where Ian had actually stuck around the entire time, and not had a _business meeting_ to go to.

Luke choked slightly, reminding Alex that he still had a backseat audience. Probably wasn't best to go around advertising that... "You learned to drive when you were _ten_? What kind of parents teach their kid how to drive that _young_?"

Alex shrugged slightly. "It was my uncle. He liked... living on the edge. Believe me when I say, driving wasn't even the beginning of it." In fact, now that he thought back on it, it was rather surprising that Ian had waited that long before teaching him the finer aspects of high speed driving. He remembered vividly the first time Ian had demonstrated a _bootleg turn_, and the thrill of learning just _how_ to do it.

But it wasn't something he was going to demonstrate now. Something like that would be too much for Luke—not to mention it would likely blow his cover wide open. The needle edged over the 85 mark, and then evened out. He didn't want to be going so fast that it would be impossible to slow down in time for any road obstruction.

"Where are we headed?" He asked.

"To the north. Up the park, and then we'll head toward Liverpool. I know of some safe places north of there that... MI6 aren't aware of."

"What about the others?" Luke asked. "At the house, I mean."

"If everything works out, we'll meet them in a few days. Otherwise... we'll take a ferry over to Ireland, and plan from there."

"I thought your employers were supposed to be _protecting_ us."

"It's rather hard to do that, when they suspect there's a mole in the company. That's the only way they could have found us again—another mole. So, we're basically without support until we can confirm that we'll be protected." Ben sounded resigned. "Until then, _anyone_ can be an enemy."

"So we're like... fugitives or something?"

Alex snorted. "One way to put it." After running for his life so many times before, adding another tick to the record wasn't exactly thrilling. It wasn't new. It wasn't exotic. And it definitely wasn't something that he wanted to ever do again.

"So, trust no one." Ben said, before turning back toward Alex. "We can switch off when we reach a town, if you want."

Alex shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

Even though he couldn't see him, he _knew_ Ben was frowning at him. "We _will_ switch eventually."

Alex grinned. "Eventually." He wasn't about to give up the feeling of usefulness any time soon.

* * *

><p>They were almost to the north end of the park, before Ben insisted on taking over. Alex had already been forced to dial back on their speed, after other cars appeared on the road as well. They had been driving for an hour, and it was well into the night. Luke had thankfully fallen quiet, having run out of pestering questions. It was clear that he wasn't quite sure <em>what<em> to think anymore...

The bright lights of a petrol station showed up on the horizon, and Alex knew that that was exactly the place Ben was looking for. Nothing fancy, just a place with sufficient lighting for them to switch places—without having to worry about looking over their backs.

It was unlikely that anyone had followed them that far, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. _Of course_, his more pessimistic side pointed out, _they might have people stationed all around the park watching for you_. In which case, the whole switching was just a bad idea. It wasn't like he could voice those concerns though. The odds were in their favor, and he didn't want to make Luke even more suspicious.

"Pull in here." Ben instructed.

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Sure you can drive? With your arm?"

"It's not deep." He readjusted the tightness of the bandage, almost seeming to go against his words. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah... whatever." He had been half hoping that Ben would let him keep driving, if not just for the sake of having something to do. But then, that was probably what Ben wanted... something to do. It was backwards for him, with Alex driving. Of courses he'd want it the right way around… no matter what _Alex_ might want.

With a rueful grin, Alex switched places with Ben, taking the place of watching over their shoulder for suspicious cars. With most of the vehicles on the road being trucks though, it made it rather hard to tell if there was actually someone following them. To Alex, it seemed like whenever he looked back, there were plenty of headlights, but none that he could identify as _cars_ per say.

The further away from the small town they had passed through though, the fewer and fewer lights there were on the road. Ben was keeping their speed just a touch over the limit, and before he knew it, they were back in the middle of nowhere, with no one else around.

"Are we going to stop somewhere for the night, or just drive?" Alex asked.

"I don't think we'll truly be safe until _after_ we go through Liverpool. And if we're not taking the most direct route, it's still going to be a little while." Ben glanced over at Alex, before looking back at the road. "I don't think anyone's going to be catching up to us for a while, so you can relax."

Alex shrugged. He was too keyed up at the moment to try to relax. At least with the pretense of doing something, he was able to direct his energy into a focused area. Something told him it was going to be a long night though, if he didn't actually get any sleep. In fact, Ben was probably going to have some pretty strong words for him, if he didn't sleep. He was probably going to end up paying for it in the future too…

"So we're good for now?" Luke asked.

"For now."

_Thump… thump… thump…_

"Well… maybe not…"

_Thump… thump… thump…_

Alex groaned. "_Please_ tell me that's not a flat tire." It was literally the last thing they needed, especially since they were still only just over an hour away from the safe house. Despite the fact that they hadn't seen anyone following them, if they were stopped trying to fix a tire, _someone_ was bound to catch up. Friendly, or unfriendly.

Ben pulled over to the side of the road, and got out to survey the damage. He was back within a few moments. "It's going to take a while to fix. I don't really have any tools." He glanced over his shoulder, toward the road for a moment, before looking back at Alex and Luke. "If you see headlights from another car, get into the woods and hide. If you hear me say something about a spare tire, then it's safe, otherwise, wait five minutes and get out of here."

"You're still worried?" Luke asked.

Ben shrugged. "I just don't want to take any chances."

Alex bit his lip. If Ben was still worried about someone coming across them—worried enough that he was putting contingency plans into place—then the threat of the people after them, and the unknown of just where they were getting their information from, was even more than he had originally suspected. This was more than just a casual, _we're-going-to-kill-you_ threat. This was something real, something that wasn't going to go away with MI6 or someone else paying them off. The only way out of this was either to give them what they wanted, or to beat them. And beating them wasn't exactly feasible when it was an entire worldwide organization after him.

Ben sent a grim smile in Alex's direction before getting back out of the car. Alex couldn't stop his hand from drifting toward where the gun was hidden, and he fingered the trigger, wondering just how bad things were going to get. Was it going to get bad enough for his cover to be blown, or would things work out in the end? With his luck, everything was going to go much further downhill, before it could even _start_ to get better.

"Do they really have such a grudge against your family?" Luke asked, startling Alex out of his thoughts. "I mean, it's like they're stopping at nothing to get to _you_. And it wasn't even your fault."

_So you think… _Alex shrugged. "They're persistent."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "And that's why the others were holding them off. So we could get away. Why's Ben so worried? It's been more than an hour, so they shouldn't be right behind us."

_But they could be…_ "He just wants to be safe. They're still not sure if there's a mole in the company or not. If there is, no matter what the others did, there could still be people around. They could still be tracking us, or they could have even planted something to sabotage our vehicle." And the more he thought it out, the more he believed it _could_ be the truth. There was no telling just what was going to happen.

Luke sighed, before settling back into his seat. "Well… let me know if you see anything…"

* * *

><p>Alex's original estimate for fixing the tire was off. Far off. More than half an hour had passed, and Ben was still struggling to get the spare tire out. He had refused all offers of help, claiming that they needed to keep watch and that help would just slow him down. Alex wasn't so sure about that, but had stopped asking.<p>

Instead, he had mapped out the visible area of the forest around them. Since it was dark, he couldn't really see _that_ much, but at least knew where the edge of the trees were. Like where the scraggly brush turned into good hiding trees. There was dip beside the edge of the road, with what could possibly be a small stream at the bottom, and then it turned to brush for a few yards, before transitioning into the larger trees native to the area.

Depending on the direction he ran, he knew at least two quick routes to the trees, without going over too many stumbling blocks. The hardest part, of course, would be dragging Luke behind him, and attempting to mask their passage, so no one could follow them if something went wrong—all while keeping Luke from noticing. _Nearly_ impossible.

"Alec?" Luke jabbed him in the shoulder, shaking him out of the semi-stupor he had fallen into. "Am I seeing things, or are those headlights coming our way?"

Alex's head jerked up, as he focused on the rapidly enlarging lights in front of him. He swore under his breath, before grabbing the pack, jumping out of the car, and gesturing wildly at Luke. "Come on! We've got to get in the woods!"

The moment Luke stepped out of the car, Alex all but dragged him down the path he had picked out. It required very little stealth, and with a few swipes of his feet, he was able to cover any evidence that they—and not a wild animal—had gone through there.

"What about Ben?" Luke asked, pulling away from Alex. "We can't just _leave_ him."

Alex stared at him, and then glanced toward the headlights. "Are you _insane?_ Ben _told_ us to get away if we saw lights. We did, so now we're supposed to hide. Ben's the one _trained_ for situations like this—" Not to mention Alex had his own experience, telling him to get away as quickly as possible… "—so he'll be fine. Now. Come. On." He jerked on Luke's arm, pulling him toward the trees.

"If he's so worried about us, then what going to stop them from going after _him_? Shouldn't he hide _too?_"

Alex spun around and fixed Luke with the fiercest glare he could muster up. "_Ben_ will be fine. If they saw an empty car, then they'd just investigate, meaning that hiding was pointless. _You_ will not be fine if they find us—and so help me god; if they don't kill you, then Ben or I will make sure you are. Don't. Be. Stupid."

Luke scowled at him. "Oh, so now you're the expert. I suppose you—"

"Yes!" Alex snapped, losing his temper. He grabbed onto Luke's arm, digging his fingers in, trying to get his point across. "I'm an _expert_. Now shut up, and do as I say!" It was more than he wanted to say, but they still weren't safe yet. If anyone had night vision, or infrared, their distance of safety had to be that much further away. He couldn't risk someone seeing them when—_if_—they had to escape.

Thankfully, that outburst seemed to shut Luke up, and Alex was able to safely drag him deeper into the woods, behind a copse of trees. It protected them just enough that they could wait there safely, while still being able to hear what was going on near the car.

Then it was the waiting game. _If_ the unknown car stopped, they would have to wait for the signal. _If_ they didn't receive the signal within five minutes—or something else happened—they would have to worry about escaping. _If_ they managed to escape without attracting attention, they would have to figure out _how_ to get back to civilization and still stay away from anyone that could be after _Alec_. They had no food. Not much water. Very little as far as protection from the elements. And absolutely no idea _who_ they could trust in the world. Of course, none of that could come true _if_ the car didn't stop. Or they were friendly.

Both Alex and Luke were silent as the headlights grew bigger and bigger, and the car got closer and closer. Alex almost breathed a sigh of relief as the car passed by, but stopped himself. The car had passed by, yes, but then it had slowed down, turned on its blinker, and pulled to the side of the road. Alex swore under his breath again, as a person got out and walked toward Ben.

"Having a bit of trouble?" The person—a man—asked. There was something odd about the way he walked…

"Yeah, blew a tire about a quarter mile back." From what Alex could see, Ben had barely looked up from working on the tire. "And it's being rather stubborn."

"Need a hand?" There was a quick hand signal, that Alex didn't quite catch, but soon saw another person getting out of the car as well.

"No… I think I've almost got it." Ben glanced back at the man, before seeming to change his mind. "On second thought, do you think you could hold the torch for me?"

"Stay absolutely still." Alex murmured in an undertone, watching as the second man scanned the area methodically. There was something off about his stance, something that just screamed danger. Thankfully, Luke took the warning.

"Have you thought about calling a tow?" The man asked, crouching down beside Ben, until he was nearly out of sight. "You look rather under equipped to fix this."

"I'd rather not, but we'll see what happens."

"Good."

"Wha—?"

Both men pulled out a gun, and pointed it toward Ben.

"Stand up slowly, with your hands above your head."

Ben slowly complied and Alex swallowed hard, fingering the gun again. This was definitely the signal that they should get out of there as quickly as possible. He had to tug on Luke's arm to keep him from jumping to the rescue—despite the fact that he had nothing to go up against a gun with.

"Where is he? Where is Pierre?" The first man demanded, training his gun on Ben's chest. "We know you've been helping him, so where did you send him off too?"

"What? I don't… Who's Pierre?"

The man fired a shot, aiming at Ben's feet, making him jump. "I'm not here to play games. Where is Pierre and why are you protecting him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Just… just let me go. I don't want anything to do with… with _you_. Let… let me fix my tire, and I'll gladly forget all of this…"

The man laughed, and shot, narrowly missing Ben again. "Where. Is. Pierre?"

With both of the men's attentions focused on Ben, Alex took that as his cue to drag Luke deeper into the woods, taking extra care about their footsteps. Thankfully, Luke seemed to understand that making noise was likely equivalent to a death sentence, and was careful as well. Once Alex was sure that they were far enough away, he broke into a run, escaping a few narrow clashes with trees. He had no idea where they were heading, or what they were going to do, but he knew that they _had_ to get away.

Ben would have to take care of himself.

* * *

><p>Somewhere along the course of the night, it had started to rain. Alex was soaked to the skin, covered in mud, scratch marks littering his exposed skin, and all around miserable. After running off and on for the better part of three hours, Luke was dragging as well.<p>

"Alec… _wait_." Luke collapsed against a tree, panting. "Where… are we… going?"

Alex shook his wet hair out of his face, and squinted at Luke. "Don't know… We should find… shelter…" Not only was he wet and cold, but he was exhausted as well. Even if they could just find some trees that kept _most_ of the water off, Alex would be happy.

After stumbling around for a few more minutes, Luke gave up, and sat down under a tree. "We're already soaked… might as well."

Alex sighed, and sat down, ignoring the mud.

"What about… Ben? He doesn't know where…"

"He can take care of himself." And Alex wasn't going to mention—or think about—the fact that Ben could quite possibly be captured, injured—or both—or _dead_. No, he definitely was not going to think about that. "As soon as it's safe, he'll find us." Alex shivered, and pulled his jacket closer to himself. "We've… we've just got to stay… safe. Out of… trouble."

He leaned against Luke, shivering, cold, wet, but for the moment safe. They had a few hours before they needed to get moving again…

* * *

><p>Alex wasn't quite sure when he had lost feeling in his toes. It must have been somewhere after he had stumbled through the stream that had suddenly appeared in front of him. He hadn't thought it would make too much of a difference—after all, he was already completely soaked—but it seemed that it had.<p>

The only reason his fingers had stiffened up yet, was because he was purposely moving them. Despite the fact that he had relaxed enough to drift off to sleep for a few hours, he was still just waiting for something to happen. He didn't tell Luke, but he was afraid that no matter what they did, Simurgh was going to find them, and capture or kill them.

The morning light was just starting to filter through the trees, making it so that they could actually see where they were going for once. Of course, with all the rain overnight, a thick fog had sprung up as well, making it impossible for them to see much further than a dozen feet in front of them. At least there weren't any more close calls with tree branches….

A sharp crack made Alex freeze. There was no reason why anyone else would be out in the forest. The fog was too thick for anyone to really see anything. And guns were most likely illegal wherever they currently were. Then again, they _were_ probably trespassing on someone's land… but there wasn't much they could do about that.

The noise got closer, and Alex's hand closed around the gun still in his pocket. Had they gone so far, only to have freedom taken away from them? Was he going to have to blow his cover, just so that _they_ wouldn't get killed?

"Luke." He pitched his voice so it wouldn't carry too far, and then motioned Luke to get closer. "There's… someone out there."

Luke's eyes widened. "Good or bad?"

"I… think bad."

"What do we do?"

"Just stick close to me. We might be able to avoid them with this fog." _Or we might just walk straight into them… or a trap_. Alex grabbed onto Luke's arm and pulled him toward a set of dense trees, away from the sound of movement. Since they could hear whoever was moving around though, it was unlikely that they were going unnoticed either. There was always the possibility that whoever would mistake them for an animal though… But it wasn't likely.

Alex had to bite back a curse when Luke stumbled over a tree root, making even more noise. There was no mistaking the fact now that someone was trying to follow them—and succeeding rather well, too.

"Pierre. I know you're there." Alex shivered as he recognized the voice. It was the same one that had been questioning Ben. "You should stop hiding. I've got a couple of friends that would _love_ to meet you." The vague noise turned into audible footsteps, as it got closer, and Alex pulled Luke back even further, hoping to get away before the man said too much. "I have some other friends that would rather see you dead though. I think you're quite familiar with them… SCORPIA keeps track of its own, you know. Even if you _did_ turn your back on them."

Luke glanced at Alex, eyes wide and questioning. Alex shook his head, trying to deny whatever was going through Luke's head. Whatever it was, it clearly wasn't good.

"Come with me, and we can save all the nastiness. We won't kill you." _Yet_. It was unspoken, but Alex knew well enough how it was all going to end. _Torture. Death._ "And we won't let your old… _associates_ hurt you either. I know for sure that they wouldn't be quite so… _gentle_."

Alex took a few more steps away, but Luke pulled away from him. Luke glanced between where the voice was coming from and Alex. The damage had already been done.

"We even let your friend go free. Of course, we couldn't let him run loose, but I'm sure _his_ employers will find him soon enough. We just want what's best." A twig cracked on the opposite side, alerting them of the presence of another person. They were surrounded. "We've heard about your training. SCORPIA just wants to kill you for double crossing them, but we're prepared to offer you a deal."

Luke shook his head quickly, before backing further away from Alex. They were nearly on opposite sides of a small clearing, when the other man struck. He appeared in mid-air, grabbing onto Luke, and holding him immobile with a gun to his head. Alex pulled out his own gun, all appearances shot to hell, and glared at the man. He shifted his aim hastily when the man that had been talking appeared.

"Ah… Hello, Pierre." The man was rather tall, had little evidence of muscles of any kind, but seemed to radiate power. His own gun was raised in Alex's direction, threatening him. "You're quite elusive when you don't want to be found, aren't you. I'm sure everyone would like to know the reason why MI6 has been protecting you—especially since you're supposedly a dead man."

Alex swallowed. They had been hinting strongly that they knew who he was—after all, who else had recently received training from SCORPIA and then double crossed them?—but the man might as well have blurted out the truth. They were left with thinly veiled accusations, and it was time for Alex to start parrying back. "I'm not a _dead man_. Last I checked I was still living and breathing."

The man smiled grimly. "Of course _Pierre_ isn't dead. But he didn't exist until you brought him to life ten months ago. Just like you're not French."

Alex swore up a storm in his head for missing that small little detail. It had essentially blown his cover completely. They knew _exactly_ who he was, but for some reason they weren't coming right out and saying it. He decided to be blunt. "I don't want anything to do with you. Were the hints with your recruiters really that hard to understand?"

The man nodded his head, as if he actually understood. "Of course. You did the dirty work for us. The higher-ups can't have incompetents working for them. They couldn't bring you in, so they weren't worthy to work." He made a mocking bow in Alex's direction, and Alex took the chance to fire a shot. Something knocked into his shoulder just as he fired though, and his shots went awry. The man frowned at him. "I, on the other hand, have managed what it has taken people months to figure out. You have to be surrounded."

Alex blinked at the man, trying to figure out what he was getting at. The man boldly took a few steps closer, making eye contact all the way.

"The only reason you kept away for so long was because you weren't ready. Now though…" He laughed, and walked forward until he was standing right in front of Alex's gun. "Well… really, we just got to you before everyone else."

"I'm not… I don't…" Alex blinked slowly, trying to figure out what was going on. He couldn't think straight. Words were flying into his mind that had absolutely nothing to do with the current situation. "Want… anything to do… with _you_…"

"Sure." The man nodded slowly, brushing the gun away from his chest. Alex was horrified to find that he had no resistance whatsoever. "But you'll understand."

Alex took a stumbling step backward, realization hitting him. "Not… fair. You _drugged_ me…"

The man raised an eyebrow, stepping forward and taking the gun away from Alex. "It's not like you were going to come voluntarily. Unfortunately for your friend, that was the only sedative we had. And now he knows too much." The man waved a hand, and the one holding Luke, clubbed him over the head with a gun. Luke collapsed into a boneless heap, and Alex was quickly joining him. He pressed his back to the nearest tree and tried to stay upright, fighting the effects of the drug.

It was a lost cause. His muscles relaxed without his command, and he slid to the ground before finally giving in. This wasn't going to end well.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. You have no idea how long this chapter has taken me (actually you probably do, since you know when the last update was…). Now classes at Uni have started for me, and I honestly have no idea how much time I'm going to have to write in the next few months. Thus, I'm really sorry for the cliff hanger. Hopefully, I'll get something up before fall break, but it all depends on how much homework I get. We shall see.**

**On that note though, what did you think of the chapter? Good notes, bad notes? Was his personality too different from the end of the last chapter? Were Luke's reactions consistent?**

**Homework is calling…**

**S.B.L.**


	32. No Illusions

**Disclaimer: **_I'm starting university. Do you really think that I'm Anthony Horowitz?_

**_Previously…_**

_The man raised an eyebrow, stepping forward and taking the gun away from Alex. "It's not like you were going to come voluntarily. Unfortunately for your friend, that was the only sedative we had. And now he knows too much." The man waved a hand, and the one holding Luke, clubbed him over the head with a gun. Luke collapsed into a boneless heap, and Alex was quickly joining him. He pressed his back to the nearest tree and tried to stay upright, fighting the effects of the drug._

_It was a lost cause. His muscles relaxed without his command, and he slid to the ground before finally giving in. This wasn't going to end well._

**CHAPTER 32: No Illusions  
><strong>

* * *

><p>It was with growing dread that Alex came back to his senses. The overwhelming feeling of being drugged was quickly wearing away, and he was already starting to take stock of his surroundings. He had no way to know exactly what was around him, but he could at least come up with a few good guesses.<p>

He was on some sort of bed, but he was under no illusions that someone had rescued him in the intervening time. _They_ had him captive, and the sign of a _soft_ bed was rather ominous. It meant that they wanted something from him, something that they wouldn't get if they immediately treated him like a prisoner. And it was likely something he couldn't—or wouldn't—give.

The room was almost silent, and after a few more moments of trying to regain his bearings, he opened his eyes. The walls were a dusty brown, leaving no doubt that Alex was somewhere in the Middle East. If Simurgh had indeed captured him, then it was likely that he was on the island that Ben had staked out so many months earlier. If he could find a camera… then there was the hope of _someone_ spotting him. Unlikely as it was.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, not too surprised to find that his shoes were gone, as was the watch that Smithers had given him. A quick search of the edge of his shirt showed that the gadgets that had been sown in there were gone as well. The iPod had been left in the house during the escape, so… he was without any tricks up his sleeve. The escape from the previous safe house hadn't helped him any.

He scanned the room quickly, taking in the details. The one part about the room that set off his alarms was the fact that there was no obvious camera watching him. He padded across the room, and started checking around the walls, looking for the inevitable listening device. It wasn't there. He searched all through the stand next to the bed. There wasn't anything there either. He had just turned to the dresser in the far corner, when a noise behind him caused him to spin around. Of course they were here _now_.

"Alec?" Luke rushed across the room, with no sign of any attackers or guards behind him and Alex relaxed a bit, before realizing that he wasn't _alone_. "Are you okay? It's been hours since they dropped you in here. What the _hell_ is going on?"

Alex eyed Luke warily. He had thought they were going to leave Luke in the woods, like they had with Ben. He had thought that his escape would be simple because he wouldn't have to worry about anyone else. Of course it wasn't… "How long have we been here?" It came off sounding snappish, and Luke blinked at him, slightly surprised.

"Er… five hours? I'm not quite—"

Alex took a step forward, cutting Luke off and making eye contact. "Are_ you_ okay? I mean, they _hit you_ pretty hard." He tilted his head just enough to catch Luke's attention, hoping that he would pick up the finer details of what they needed. Having another person present mucked _everything_ up. Any plans they made could possibly be overheard by their captors.

"No, I'm f—"

Alex raised an eyebrow, challenging him to complete the sentence. Thankfully the message got across, and Alex motioned to the edge of the bed. "It's not bleeding or anything? I mean, it had to be a pretty hard hit to knock you out. Do you want me to look at it?"

Luke rolled his eyes, but sat down anyway. "Not like you can do anything about it." He mumbled.

Alex stood behind Luke, and carefully controlled his voice, taking care to make his voice just loud enough for it to carry to Luke. It was always possible that _someone_ had a listening device close enough to hear what he said, but there weren't any options. "Talk to me. Don't move your lips, someone might see. Look at you lap if you have to. Understand?"

It took Luke a moment to adjust, and he was glancing at his lap while Alex checked the back on his head. "Yeah."

"Now, have they given you anything to drink?"

"No…"

"Anything to eat?"

Luke started to shake his head, but Alex pulled on the hair lightly to stop the movement. A moment later the reply came. "No, but—"

Alex moved closer, surreptitiously glancing around the room for something he might have missed. As far as he could tell, the room was clear. But he wasn't taking any chances. "Have they asked you any questions? Bothered you in any way?"

"No—"

"Do you know anything about where we are?" Alex paused as he lined up his thoughts, and brushed through a bloodied mat in Luke's hair. Yes, it had bled at one point, but it wasn't anymore. "Are we by a lake? On an island? How many hours did it take us to get here? Which section of the building are we in? How many people saw you and me?"

Luke jerked away, probably from annoyance rather than anything to do with the injury, and Alex just _knew_ he was glaring. "If you'd let me speak, then I could actually tell you something. You may forget that I've actually _listened_ to the things Braden and Mendelssohn have told me in the past few weeks."

Alex resisted the urge to glare, since it would break the carefully worded charade he had pulled together. "Well?"

"We're on an island, and the land is rather flat. When we came, it was midday. There were about three hours from when I woke up, to when they put us on the boat to the island. We're on the east side of the island, the doors are locked, I haven't seen any signs of cameras, and three people have come into the room to check on you. They left me alone though."

"Anything else out of the ordinary?"

"Aside from being kidnapped? No."

Alex sighed and sat back. It wasn't matching any previous experience. They weren't following what Alex mentally referred to as '_bad guy codes_'. Their plan was different, and Alex had no idea how he was going to deal with whatever they threw at him. If he at least had some kind of gadget, he'd be able to do _something_. All he had left was his creativity.

Luke turned around and surveyed Alex. "What's going on?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't know."

"You knew how to use a gun. And tried to shoot that man. Why?"

Alex shrugged. "I didn't fancy getting kidnapped."

"Where'd you get the gun in the first place?"

"Brother."

"Why?"

Alex glared. "Because believe it or not, I've been kidnapped once or twice in my life already, and I've learned a thing or two about guns in the process."

Luke's eyes narrowed, but he turned off the track of questioning. "Then what was that man saying to you? He seemed to know exactly who you were. He knew _old associates_…"

Alex repressed a shudder. He didn't want to think about how much that man had revealed.

"Something about a _scorpion_."

Alex did shudder, and pulled away from Luke. "Ignore it. He was just telling lies." _Full of the truth, really_… the thought of Luke knowing those little secrets of his life was not acceptable though. He wasn't supposed to know about the men that had been killed, about the training that he had gone through, or the number of times that things had gone wrong just because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was just supposed to think that Alex had extremely bad luck, and that people had kidnapped him because of who his parents were before. Nothing more.

"Do you think he was lying about B—my brother?"

Alex weighed the answer. He honestly wasn't sure what he was supposed to believe. On one hand, he _wanted_ to believe that Ben was still alive. He wanted to know that he hadn't inadvertently killed someone, all for the sake of getting him to safety, but it almost went against what he knew about them. Maybe they had made an exception… they had to know that there was no way he would trust them—not that he _ever_ would—if they claimed to not kill someone off, but actually did. "I don't know."

Luke frowned, and slouched down on the bed. "What are they going to do to us?"

This, Alex could honestly answer without thinking about it. "I don't know." And he feared to find out the answer.

* * *

><p><em>Thirty four… thirty five… thirty six… thirty seven… thirty eight…<em> Alex was about ready to start banging on the walls, just for something else to do. Maybe it would bring some sort of attention to them… not that they really wanted that, but Alex was sure that almost anything was better than staring at the ceiling, trying to avoid looking at Luke for fear of being asked questions about something that Alex couldn't safely give answers for. Even for asking about things Alex could _freely_ talk about, but didn't want to.

For the last three hours, neither of them had said very much—just enough to get Luke truly worried about their current position in life. Alex had seen it as the only way to get him to shut up. Now, he almost wished he hadn't. Then there would have at least been some inane chatter.

_Thirty nine… forty… forty one… forty two… forty three…_ He had counted the ceiling tiles twice already, but had been distracted more than once, so he was triple checking the number. Just for something to do, other than contemplate his fate.

There were definitely going to be some awkward questions involved. There was no denying the fact that Luke was going to learn more than anyone had ever wished him to. As long as he never learned of the connection to working for MI6, the world was safe. People couldn't find out that the British government had been blackmailing a teen into doing their dirty work for them.

They would probably do their best to convince him to join them, possibly by using Luke's life against him. He wasn't sure what he would do then. He would rather die than be subjected to someone's control again, but that would mean leaving Luke unprotected—something he couldn't do with a clear conscience. And he couldn't condemn Luke to death either.

_Forty four… forty five… forty six…_ There were far too many ways that a meeting could go. They could try to persuade him first, before swinging around for the blow that would leave him with no options. Or they could go straight for the threats. There were a million other ways as well. And it all involved being acquainted with one of the higher-ups of the group. Simurgh had him well and good.

_Forty seven… forty eight… forty—_The door that had remained shut the entirety of the afternoon, opened with a slight creak, and a greying gentleman—because he certainly looked the part of a butler—came in and smiled upon seeing Alex and Luke up and about.

Alex couldn't help the mental wince, when he realized that the man seemed opposite of what he had expected. Previous experience with evil organizations involved their lower minions being rather gruesomely disfigured and with a grudge against the world in general. This man seemed rather… genial. Almost disturbingly so…

"My employers apologize for the lack of attention over the last few hours, but something urgent came up." The man made a shallow bow toward them. "They wish to see you sirs now."

Alex swallowed nervously, but he didn't really see any way out of it. And the appearance of choice was just a façade. Of course, he would have rather left Luke out of the conversation completely, but it seemed that that wasn't in the agenda either.

The man cleared his throat slightly. "They don't wish to be kept waiting."

With no other option open to him—there was a bodyguard lurking outside the door, so escaping wasn't possible—Alex nodded toward Luke, and followed the man out the door. He chewed his lip slightly as they walked down the hall, turning this way and that way. There was no way he could keep it straight in his head, and it had been months since he had seen the blueprints. He _didn't_ have a photographic memory…

Luke walked as close to him as possible, and from the corner of his eye, Alex could see him shooting wary glances at the three guards that were following them. There was certainly no missing the fact that they had guns with them.

The closer they got to their destination though, the more anxious Alex got. There were so many things that they could say, so many things that would make Luke irreparably suspicious. Not that it really mattered anymore, but Alex _really_ didn't want his life paraded in front of Luke. At the same time, knowing exactly where Luke was and what he was hearing, was good too. Then they couldn't threaten his safety while Alex couldn't see him.

Unless they separated them… He wasn't going to think about that.

The man pushed open a set of double doors, leading into a rather fancy looking parlor that seemed out of place for being in the Middle East. He waved a hand toward a set of armchairs. "They will be along momentarily."

Alex cautiously sat down in a chair, and Luke did as well. The butler like man left them after that, though their guards didn't. They positioned themselves strategically around the room, leaving no doubt in Alex's mind that there was a shoot first, ask later, policy going on at the moment. They _looked_ ready to kill…

"What's going on?" Luke mumbled, casting a nervous look toward their guards.

Alex shrugged and glanced around the room. The first, and most obvious, explanation was that the higher up that had brought them in, was finally getting around to meeting them. _After_ making them wait in anxiety, of course. The next explanation was… well… there really _wasn't_ another explanation. The man had basically explained that the 'employer' was going to meet with them now, and that they had no choice.

Judging from the surroundings of the room, there would be no torture used immediately, though it certainly didn't mean it was out of the question completely. Just not in the current room. The current room was one used for show during important business meetings. The large window on one side, overlooking the ocean was proof of that. The décor of the room also proved that it was something that was kept up just for _wooing_ potential clients. Or really, anyone they didn't want to kill immediately.

That was always a plus…

And the windows provided need for the guards as well, since there was technically nothing stopping the prisoners from escaping. Except for the fact that it was an island and they were practically trapped. But that was just in the details.

After sitting in tense silence for nearly five minutes, the doors swung open again, and a surprisingly young man walked in. He couldn't have been more than a year or so older than Ben, but he walked with the grace of someone who had suddenly come into a great deal of wealth.

He turned a genuine smile on the two of them, as if he had completely forgotten that he had _kidnapped them_ only hours earlier. "Hello _Pierre_." There was no doubt that he knew that wasn't Alex's real name, but he was just using it because he could. "I do apologize for the length of time it took me, but my man assured me the sedative wouldn't work as long as it did. Apparently sedatives have a unique _reaction_ with your physiology." He shrugged slightly, before piercing Alex with his gaze. "All that aside, I think introductions are in order. I'm sure you know who _we_ represent, but now _who_ I am. I am Jacob Clarke, one the leaders for Simurgh." He tilted his head slightly in Luke direction. "I have not had the pleasure of being acquainted with you as I have with Pierre here, though you seem to be a recent addition to Pierre's _entourage_."

"Lukas Barlos." Luke tilted his head in return, and Alex thanked his lucky stars that Luke was on top of the ball for once. He might not have been cut out for the lifestyle, but he had at least picked up a few lifesaving habits in the long run.

"Well Lukas, I'm glad to meet you, though most of my business today will be conducted with Pierre." He turned to Alex with a mocking smile. "My colleague will be joining us shortly, but we can start without him. Shall we get down to business then?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: HAHAHA! Look! I lied! It's not fall break and I'm updating! Classes weren't too bad, and I actually got all my homework finished before the weekend so… yeah, an update. Chapters will probably be shorter if I'm trying to get them up more often, since I won't have quite as much time to spend on writing, but I figure short chapters is better than no chapters, right?**

**So, what did you think? We ****_finally_**** get to meet one of the people involved in Simurgh… dun, dun, duuuuh. And there are more in the future. We shall have to wait and see what's next (and hopefully it won't be months before the next one is up)…**

**See you then!**

**S.B.L.**


	33. Join Us

**Disclaimer: **_Yadda, yadda, yadda… Name's not Anthony Horowitz, so obviously this is not mine. Sadly._

**_Previously…_**

_"Lukas Barlos." Luke tilted his head in return, and Alex thanked his lucky stars that Luke was on top of the ball for once. He might not have been cut out for the lifestyle, but he had at least picked up a few lifesaving habits in the long run._

_"Well Lukas, I'm glad to meet you, though most of my business today will be conducted with Pierre." He turned to Alex with a mocking smile. "My colleague will be joining us shortly, but we can start without him. Shall we get down to business then?"_

**CHAPTER 33: Join Us**

* * *

><p>Alex barely repressed the shiver that the tone gave him, and settled back into his chair, trying to look unconcerned about the upcoming conversation. "I'm not sure what you mean by business, Mr. Clarke." The least he could do was let his actions throw them for a loop. "I most certainly did not ask to be <em>here<em>."

Clarke bowed his head slightly. "While I'll admit that our methods had a little to be desired, I assure you that _this_ is better than anything you could have expected from ex-SCORPIA members, no matter the allegiance nowadays."

Luke twitched slightly at the name, obviously recognizing it, but thankfully didn't say anything.

"We'll get to the business proposition eventually, but I'm sure you'd rather learn a little more about us before—how shall I put it?—_taking the leap_." Clarke stood up from his chair and wandered over to the bookshelf, and pulled down an old-looking book. "I'm not sure if you're familiar with the writings of Mikhail Bakunin, but we have—over the past few years—gathered inspiration from some of his more… _passionate_ writings." He dropped the book with a thud onto the table. "One of my colleagues studied Bakunin's writings for a few years, and shared some of his discoveries with the rest of us."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Discoveries."

"Yes. He wrote extensively on the subject of liberty. A good share of his writings, along with others, spurred us into our actions over the past few years."

"And _this_ gave you reason to go about destroying half of Africa? All in the name of _liberty?_"

Clarke pursed his lips. "We're not _destroying_. The governments were corrupt, and the people were oppressed. Bakunin's writings were one of the things that opened our eyes to this. There was a problem, and we were the only ones to show any interest in fixing it."

Alex nodded mockingly. "So just because a country is _oppressed_, you assume that the people give you the right to stir up insurrection. In the _hopes_ of creating something better." Alex snorted. "I don't think I like your moral reasoning."

"We _will_ create something. Something better that—"

Alex cut the man off. "The people you're working with to put into power will be just as oppressive and corrupt as the ones you're taking out! Then, another group will appear with the same goals _you_ had, and the region will dissolve into war again."

Clarke gave Alex a curious look. "Just because a person has the power doesn't mean they will take action on it. Others before us have obviously done nothing."

_Perhaps because they actually _thought_ before acting_… Alex bit his lip to keep from saying anything. It was too soon to go about insulting them. There was Luke to worry about, after all. He couldn't do anything before he really knew _who_ he was up against.

Clarke pinned Luke with his gaze, and Alex hoped that whatever came next, Luke would know not to say anything stupid. "Tell me _Mr. Barlos_, if you saw a friend that was suffering underneath an unfair boss, would you not do everything in your power to help you friend?"

There was no doubt in Alex's mind, that Clarke didn't believe the alias, but was playing along just for the sake of stringing them along that much longer.

"If you knew that your friend was being treated like a… _underpaid lackey_, and yet he didn't realize his own predicament, would you not take pains to make sure that he was out of the situation? Get that same boss sacked?" Clarke sent a glance in Alex's direction, before focusing again on Luke. Like a cat onto a mouse. "I can't imagine you would pat him on the back, and tell him to get over it. Tell him to find a new job, when obviously, the job is the only thing that is _barely_ keeping him alive."

Luke swallowed slightly, but refrained from making any other movement.

"No… I didn't think so." Clarke smiled, before picking up the book and thumbing through the pages. "Pierre, you seem to be operating under the pretense that we're just attempting to set up a dictatorship. I assure you, it's the furthest thought from our minds. After all, _freedom can only be created by freedom_. Bakunin was against dictatorships, after all. His arguments are rather convincing."

Alex hid his grimace. He had not been captured merely for the capturer to sprout philosophy at him. They wanted something more, but it wasn't clear what. Now was not the time to argue morals and philosophy with someone who was clearly well engrained into his ways of thought. Despite the fact he was still rather young.

"Perhaps you'll understand after you've met _all_ of us."

Alex couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. That meant that there were more than just two people in charge. Surely, not all of them could be so dead set on what the _philosopher_ said. There had to be someone who had at least a shred of sense.

_Yet you've faced down how many mad men in the world…?_

The doors to the room swung open, startling Alex out of his thoughts, as the butler-like man came in, followed by another man—once again, only a few years older than Ben—who had his nose buried in a book. He didn't even bother to look up, just crossed the room, pulled a couple of binders off the shelf, carried the pile to the table, and dropped it down—all while still reading—before sitting down in a chair himself.

"If you're going to attempt to explain, you might as well get it right the first time around." The man grumbled, before flicking a page, and continuing to read.

Clarke smirked, before pulling a binder toward himself. "Such manners, James."

_James_ shrugged slightly, but still didn't bother to look up. He didn't even flinch underneath Alex's scrutiny. He could have easily passed for a local of the Middle East, but there was no doubt from his accent that he had been raised in an upper-class family in Britain.

"My irritable colleague here is James Quinn. His research has been rather… instrumental in the past few years." Clarke waved the butler over, whispered a few instructions, and the man left them. "I hope you'll forgive me, but it's hard for me to remember that you haven't eaten in a number of hours."

Quinn muffled a snort. "Only you."

Alex carefully kept any expression off his face, but had to admit to himself that _Quinn_ acted rather unlike any _criminal_ he had met before. If it weren't for the fact that they had willfully kidnapped him—not to mention the attempts on his life—he would have suspected that they didn't really know what they were doing.

Of course, it was entirely possible that they didn't understand just what the people under their control did. The likelihood was slim. After all, they had willfully used force to bring him in. They had to understand what ramifications their actions would have in the world.

"If you really want to know what we're about, I suggest you get some background reading in first." Quinn stated, still not bothering to look over the edge of his book. "I'm sure that having someone _telling_ you the facts won't be enough."

Clarke handed one of the binders to Alex, motioning him to open it. On first glance, Alex saw nothing more than what looked like newspaper clippings. On second glance though, he saw the notes in the margins. The notes scribbled down in shaky handwriting. And it wasn't pristine paper either. The pieces were ripped, stained, and sometimes partially illegible. It told a story though.

_'Reporter in Tunis, Tunisia Killed During Riot'._

_'Freedom of Speech Restricted in Tunisia'._

_'Protests in Gafsa Out of Control'._

_'Felix Jacques Narrowly Escapes Algeria with Life'._

_'Egyptian Riots Turn Deadly'._

Alex swallowed, before glancing between the two men. "So you keep track of your handiwork?"

Clarke scowled, the first sign that he was at least _marginally_ displeased with the way things were going in the world. "No. That was not _us_." He paused and took a breath, seeming to come back to himself. "You have to realize Pierre, just because your government _thinks_ it knows all about what we're up to, they only know what we _want_ them to know. We are not an all-knowing group, one that has ulterior motives with every action. We just push people of influence into bettering the world around us."

"By starting civil war in the Northern Africa." Alex's lips curled in distaste. "I don't think the citizens think you're _bettering their world_."

Quinn set the book down, fixing Alex with a rather steely gaze. "You _don't_ understand. These people have been taken advantage of for decades, and their governments weren't about to allow any sort of free speech." He slammed a hand down on the table. "_Journalists_ have been _killed_ just because they're trying to get the word out to the rest of the world. And we found a way around that problem. We found a way that we _could_ get the message out."

"At the cost of human life."

"That hasn't stopped you, obviously."

Alex winced, and glared at Quinn when Luke turned a curious gaze on him. This wasn't going well. "It wasn't my fault."

"No?" Quinn's gaze flickered toward Luke before snapping back on Alex. "I don't think anyone _forced_ you to pick up the gun and shoot. Rezaei… Ross… you even took a shot at Frederick. You're no better than us."

"There wasn't—" Alex stopped abruptly, realizing that responding like that was exactly what Quinn was looking for. He had to use a more graceful way of responding, or Luke was just going to ask more questions. "You weren't there, so you obviously don't know what you're talking about." It still sounded petty…

Quinn shrugged. "No… but we have the same evidence that the government used to track you down afterwards. And you can't forget everyone else from _before_."

It was with heavy restraint that Alex kept himself from outwardly reacting. He certainly didn't like the prospect of _everything_ being told in front of Luke, but he knew there wasn't any choice. The question of whether Luke was going to trust him afterwards was a completely different matter.

Before anyone could say anything else though, the door swung open and the butler—for Alex had no other name for him—carried in a tray of sandwiches and tea. Alex barely kept himself from snorting. These were definitely a different sort of criminals. There was no fancy food with unpronounceable names. And it wasn't food that was only good for the dogs. Of course, they were still trying to sway Alex to their side…

Luke cast a slightly nervous glance toward Alex and then at the food. Alex shrugged slightly and took some of the food, figuring that if they were going to poison or drug him there wasn't much he could do to stop them. They'd just find another way.

Quinn waited until Alex's mouth was full of food before dropping an essential bombshell. "Some of your old coworkers are coming by tomorrow. I can't imagine that they'd be very pleased to see you. Especially after what you did to Rothman and Nile. Even Walker seemed rather intent to apprehend you once Ross and Rezaei were killed."

The sandwich immediately turned to sand in his throat and Alex swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the blockage. "Not… my fault." For once, he was living up to what Ben had repeated to him for months on end. Even if he only half believed it. Of course it was his fault—after all, they hadn't given him the gun and pulled the trigger—but he wasn't going to let _them_ pin it on him…

Quinn tipped his head slightly in concession. "Perhaps… but _they_ don't see it that way. You killed their boss and coworker."

Luke blanched slightly.

"No honor among thieves." Alex stated, staring at his plate. Now was not the time to get into a heated debate. The acknowledgement that _something_ had happened was enough to put Alex off food.

"No… except when it essentially got rid of their income for months on end. Problems tend to bring thieves together."

"And you associate with them… why?"

Clarke smirked and picked up one of the binders on the table. "They were exactly what we needed at the time, and they were floundering with no real support or leadership. I suppose we have _you_ to thank for that… after all, Cairo was the end of it all for them. Who would want to hire them after _that_?"

Alex grimaced, and avoided Luke's gaze. Now he was more than just curious.

"They had contacts and people in the countries we needed, and it turned out to be a mutual benefit." Quinn took the binder from Clarke, and passed it over so Alex could see the photos and newspaper clipping. "And obviously, you weren't above working with them either. They trained you, after all."

Alex blanched slightly, taking in the all too familiar pictures of Malagosto. There was no doubt that the figure in the image was him—even though his now black hair was a clear blond in the photo. Alex tilted the binder away from Luke, trying to keep the most incriminating evidence out of sight. The newspaper clippings chronicled the events of _Invisible Sword_—from the public point of view. The mysterious deaths surrounding the balloon _accident_. The explosion of the pharmaceutical factory, linked with the manufacturing of the yearly student vaccinations… There were even documents about the dam in Kenya that had been destroyed. It was all documented clearly and neatly.

"Too much time on your hands?" Alex asked, scathingly. They had essentially backed him into a corner.

Quinn smiled thinly. "I thought you'd find that interesting. Something tells me that you're not quite ready yet for the sales pitch though." He signaled to the butler who had been waiting quietly beside the door. "Take them back to their room."

Alex suppressed a scowl at the offhanded way they were treating them, but made no move to resist. At least the extra time would give him a chance to sort out his thoughts. They were a little _too_ perceptive for his liking, and he wasn't sure what they were going to pull out next. What kind of blackmail would they come up with to pressure him into seeing things their way?

He purposefully left the binder behind. He had no wish for Luke to get his hands on _that_.

* * *

><p>The moment they were alone, Luke spun on Alex. "What the hell was that all about?"<p>

Alex sat down on the edge of the bed, and chewed at his lip. He wasn't sure what to think of all their _evidence_… and he knew that the last thing he wanted was for Luke to see it. There was still hope that some shred of his cover could be held with Luke around. Not that that would matter if the never actually got out...

Most likely, they were both going to end up dead…

"Well?"

"They… were trying to sway support to their side. Rationalize their actions."

"Not that." Luke sat down in the chair across from the bed and fixed Alex with his gaze. "They were talking about a gun. And _you_… shooting and killing people."

Alex waved his hand. "It doesn't matter."

"The hell it matters! They're saying you _killed_ someone. That the _government_ was tracking you down. Like a serial killer or something. You're only six—" Alex smothered the rest of the response with his hand, glaring at Luke.

"I _told_ you, it doesn't matter. Leave it."

Luke shook his head away, glaring at Alex, but didn't say anything more. _If_ they ever got out, it was going to take more than just a few well-placed lies to get Luke off his back. There were too many questions.

The real question was—_were_ they going to escape. _Was_ it even possible to for someone to rescue them? All his gadgets had been taken, what few he had had on his person. He hated to think what kinds of secrets they might have divulged from the few they took, but knowing Smithers, any gadget not properly used would have melted or exploded. If only he had the iPod… then getting out would be so much easier. But they would've taken that too. If nothing else, they had been thorough.

From what he remembered of the layout of the building and island, the east side was the most heavily guarded. Not much of a surprise, since it was the side facing the landmass—no matter how far away _that_ was. Even if they managed to get to the west side of the island, there wasn't anyone _waiting_ to pick them up, like there had been when Ben's team bugged the cameras… swimming out would be suicidal.

_The cameras_… He had no idea which of the cameras they had bugged, and acting strange in front of any of them was bound to make someone suspicious. But if someone on the other side saw him or Luke, then at the very least they might send a rescue mission. There was still hope of some sort.

He just had to make sure that the cameras saw them whenever they were out of the room.

"Alec?"

Alex nearly jumped, before realizing that he had been staring at the same spot for the last fifteen minutes. "What?"

"Do you really think Ben's okay?"

There was no plea for a false truth. He wanted to know what Alex _really_ thought… "I don't know."

Luke frowned slightly. Clearly, it wasn't enough of an answer.

"They—criminals that is—don't normally leave victims alive… but… it seems like they're after something different. It's like… they're doing their best not to turn me against them. Like they're trying to keep me happy. I think they honestly want something from me."

"Want something?"

Alex shrugged, mentally retreating. He had already said too much. "I don't know. It felt like they were really trying hard to sway me to their side. And I don't know why." _It's because if I'm with them, their cause gets that much better. Who wouldn't want the teenager that brought down SCORPIA on their side? It's nearly the ultimate trump card. Even killing me off would be beneficial to their cause._

"You were both talking about killing. And you didn't even flinch."

_I did too!_ Alex carefully wiped the scowl from his face, and turned a blank face on Luke. "I said I didn't want to talk about it."

Thankfully, Luke seemed to get the hint and promptly shut up again, leaving Alex alone in his thoughts. He wasn't sure if the day could actually get any worse than it already was…

* * *

><p>It was a long four days. Nothing had changed. More people had been introduced into the mix, until Alex was sure that he had met all the <em>leading<em> members. Clarke and Quinn had been repeating figures, but a Richard Nyman and Tristan Davies—both hailing from somewhere in Wales—had used their own subtle manipulations to attempt to sway Alex to their side. He wasn't going to be swayed, no matter what kind of information they used against him.

He saw no logical reasoning in their actions. From everything that he knew, he couldn't fathom why they were using their influence in the way that they were. They had a logic that only they seemed to understand. Though there didn't seem to be one particular leader, Quinn seemed to be the ones that the others unconsciously followed. There was something about his personality… and it wasn't just that he had learned the best way to manipulate others. He _knew_ things about life that most _rich_ people didn't. Alex couldn't figure him out.

More than once, they had separated him from Luke, taking them to different destinations. Each time, the questioning and subtle hints at Alex's past became stronger and stronger. Once, they had attempted to question him extensively about his time with the SAS, a subject that he refused to acknowledge. The few times that they had brought him in with Luke though, they had barely touched on the subject, pretending to be the gracious hosts.

Alex had questioned Luke about what happened while he was away, but only received rather inconclusive answers. Mostly, for Luke, it had involved meetings with Nyman, the one that seemed the most interested in the effects that the revolutions and revolts were having in the general population. Luke had always come back slightly pale, before explaining to Alex that they were keeping him _updated_ on the changes in the world. Gruesome and graphic explanations that had made Luke shudder just to think about again. The reaction at least meant that they weren't having any luck in swaying Luke to their side…

His hopes for escape though were dwindling with every hour that passed. Anyone watching the cameras in the compound should have noticed him by then. He had made sure to stumble in front of any camera he found, hoping to give anyone watching a few extra seconds to see him. All in the hope that _someone_ would catch on. That _someone_ would come after them, and get them out of the hell hole.

"Pierre."

Alex hid a grimace as the butler came in for the third time that day. Luke still hadn't been brought back, and he was reluctant to admit that he was afraid they had done something drastic to him.

"My employers wish to see you." The _again_ was left unsaid, but there was a slightly weary air to the man that made Alex wonder if they were finally going to reach an ultimatum.

Without a word, Alex got up from the chair he had been sitting in, and followed the butler out of the room and down the now familiar halls. The guards fell in behind him, though they were closer than usual, as if they expected him to try something. As much as he would have liked to try something, there was no way he could leave Luke behind. He would never be able to forgive himself if something happened that he could have prevented.

For the first time, when they reached the same meeting room that Alex had been taken to for the past three days, all four of the men were present. Luke was sitting in a corner away from everyone else, and seemed to be avoiding eye contact. From the three guards that surrounded him, Alex was sure that Luke had _failed_ their ultimatum. And now, he was going fail to as well.

"Ah, Pierre. Nice of you to join us." Quinn waved Alex to a seat. They had kept up with the pretense of the names the entire week, but Alex had no doubt that they knew his real name. After all, they knew about his days with the SAS and everything else. They _knew_. "I do hope that you'll bear with us. I'm afraid that your decision has had to be moved up by a number of days. Certain… _activities_ have alerted us that we're quickly running out of time where you're concerned."

Alex swallowed slightly. What did that mean? Did it mean someone was coming and he just needed to hold out a little longer? Or did it mean something more sinister? That _someone bad_ knew where he was, and wanted him. In that case, holding out would be extremely detrimental to his health… He couldn't cave in though; there was no way he could pull it off. It would be essentially that same as committing himself to death. Himself _and_ Luke.

The feeling of four sets of eyes tracking him across the room was rather unnerving, and he couldn't help the tenseness in his back when he sat down. From what he had seen so far, none of these men seemed to be the violent types, but if he refused them… he wasn't sure what they would do then. Would something change? Or would they hand him over to someone else to _dispose_ of him?

"I'm sure you've long since figured out why we brought you here." Nyman said, fixing Alex with a stare. "Your abilities were something that would be quite beneficial for us, and well… after having you mess up a few of our plans, it became obvious that we couldn't just let you lie. You were a liability."

Alex scowled. "If you had left me alone, I wouldn't have been a _liability_. I didn't want anything to do with this." They had gone over that very point, countless times during the week. "You just kept coming after me."

Davies chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No… I don't think it's possible for you to ignore the world changing around you. No matter what, you would have found a way into this. Your old associates would have picked you up eventually, and done _something_."

Alex carefully hid the grimace that those words brought to mind. They had no illusions that if an ex-SCORPIA member got a hold of him, they would torture and then kill him. No matter what. "They wouldn't have found me."

"They would. And you know it. Running can only get you so far away. Didn't your MI6 friends find you after only a few months?"

"They wouldn't have if Rezaei hadn't followed me. I would have gotten away." He was painfully aware that this conversation was taking place in front of Luke, but he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't afford secrets anymore. It was all or nothing, if he had any hope to keep both himself and Luke from dying. "It was because you were all too _curious_ that I got into the mess. It's your own fault for mixing me up in this. I was perfectly happy to be the ignorant observer."

"Since when would have observing been the only thing you did? Need we reference you past history?" Davies asked. "After all, you were supposedly an _observer_ there, weren't you? Or do you merely have a different definition of the word?"

"You weren't required to do anything then." Quinn said, pressing the point. "You certainly weren't required to do anything when Ross accosted you in the woods. You weren't required to do anything when Rezaei took you. You could have come calmly, and if you didn't agree, we would have set you free."

Alex highly doubted that it would have ever been that simple. It wasn't their style. "And now?"

"You know too much. You've done too much. Ross and Rezaei are dead. You've taken out key players in our field, and that's something we can't just let go ignored."

"So you'll consolidate your losses. I can't imagine that Ross and Rezaei were much of a loss if they were taken out so easily."

"No… but they were leaders for our forces. They were both intimately familiar with the way that SCORPIA worked, and they brought a large share of power to our side. They had followers of their own. Followers that would dearly like to see you pay for what you did."

Alex resolutely kept from glancing toward Luke. He wasn't sure what the other teen was going to think, after hearing all this. If he wanted to stay as far away from Alex as possible, he wasn't going to complain. It was dangerous being near him. "They can't begrudge me when they send someone incompetent to capture a mere _teenager_, and let that teenager get away with having a gun. Ross should have known that coming after me was foolish. He was _there_ after all. They _all_ should have known better. I _don't_ like people trying to control my life. Why do you _think_ I left the states?"

"Because your life was being dictated for you." Clarke tipped a nod in Alex's direction. "We're not trying to control you."

"Oh? And you presume that making me do whatever it is you want me to do won't involve some amount of controlling? I'm no assassin, as SCORPIA figured out quite easily, and I won't do the dirty work either. I _hate_ spies. You can't do anything to change my mind about this. Blackmail or otherwise."

Nyman raised an eyebrow. "So even telling your friend here all your secrets won't change your mind? I was under the impression that you were doing almost anything to refrain from telling him the _truth_."

Alex grimaced inwardly. "Nothing."

"We'll hand you over to Walker."

"I will _never_ help you."

Davies leaned back in his chair, surveying Alex. "And just _why_ do you find our cause so deplorable, that you're willing to face certain death—because I know for a fact that Walker wants to get even—and probable torture as well? After all, your contribution might be as simple as giving us intel on the headquarters of MI6."

"_Why?_" Alex clenched his hands, willing himself not to get too worked up. There was still a chance to get out of this. Even if they _were_ threatening him with Walker… "Why are _you_ doing this? You're essentially destroying the countries. They'll be in civil war for years, just because a group of _rich_ Europeans decided that the country wasn't behaving the way they thought it should."

"You read the news stores." Clarke pointed out. "We weren't the ones to start it."

"Oh, _now_ you're trying to avoid the blame. So tell me then, who was the one directing the attacks in London? In Europe? The terrorist attacks in Russia? India? The attempt on the Prime Minister's life in December? You might claim that that wasn't _directly_ the four of you, but you all had a hand in it. Who was giving the SCORPIA members their money and supplies, after all? Who were the ones that were responsible for tracking down the information that lead to the direct death of at least six high-ranking officials, including the former Head of MI6?" _Not that there was any love lost there…_ "More than twenty spies were killed over the past few months, all because SCORPIA had the money to send their people in and assassinate them. You don't really care about the world. You're just enjoying seeing how much a mess you can make of the place. More people in the espionage world have been killed because of SCORPIA taking revenge over the past five months than the normal casualties of working in that profession."

Clarke frowned at Alex. "Like you did any better. Shooting the Prime Minister, killing off billionaires—Damian Cray for example—blowing up satellites that were worth millions of dollars, nearly killing the American Secretary of State in Cairo—"

That pushed Alex over the edge. "That wasn't _me_!"

"Oh?" Nyman raised an eyebrow mockingly. "We have the footage from it. The person certainly _looks_ like you."

"It wasn't me!" He shoved all thoughts of Julius out of his head. It really wasn't the time for _that_. "I was trying to stop the other person!"

Nyman smirked. "You admit that you were there in the first place. You weren't required to do anything. It further proves our point that you would have gotten involved eventually. You can't seem to help yourself."

Alex spluttered at the man. He _hadn't_ had a choice. They had killed _her_… he had to do something.

"This is your only chance." Clarke said, meeting Alex's gaze. "We don't give second chances."

"Not that there'll be much left when Walker's done…" Quinn muttered, but the others didn't seem to hear him.

"And just why do you want _me_?" Alex asked.

"The same reason everyone else did."

Alex flinched.

"No one suspects a teenager. And besides, you have information that would be very useful to us. You worked with Jones for two years, didn't you? You failed the initiation test because of her, didn't you? That information, in and of itself, would come at a high price from any other source."

"And what's going to keep me from turning on you? The goodness of my heart?"

"No… I'm sure you'll find that we have more persuasive methods for keeping you in line."

He did _not_ like the sound of that. There was no way that he could join them. Perhaps, if Luke hadn't been there, he would have done it to save his own skin, but everything got more complicated once you started adding in another person into the mix. Anything out of the ordinary he did, was likely to make Luke stop trusting him. There was already a significant amount of doubt there, and Alex had no doubt that after what he had just revealed, Luke was going to have more questions than ever.

Besides, the _persuasive methods_ probably included hanging Luke's wellbeing over Alex's head. A reasonable enticement for playing along to their rules. A reward that they could do away with very easily…

"Will you join us?"

Alex was startled slightly by the bluntness of the question. They had seemed so roundabout in the past few days… what had changed? Something about them _running out of time_…

"Think carefully. After all, Walker and his friends are waiting for you if you make the _wrong decision_."

Alex glanced around the room, looking for something—anything—that might give him a chance to delay his ultimatum. There was nothing. The only way out of the room, other than the doors, was through the glass window, and there were guards standing in front of it. Unlike other times, Alex couldn't reject them with a witty comment and then proceed to escape. No… he had Luke tying him up. Not for the first time, Alex cursed his luck for getting captured with someone else. Almost anyone else would have been better than Luke. At least then, he wouldn't have had to worry about hiding himself so much…

"You want _me_ to join you? Join you in _attempting_ to take over the world? Join you in essentially destroying the world as we know it? Sending millions of people to death—innocent people, might I add." Alex took a deep breath and glared at each person in the room. "You _think_ you know me, so you should already know the answer. There's no way in hell that I'd _ever_ join your pathetic excuse for a rallying point. I don't _kill_ people. I don't send people to their death because it's convenient, or because someone wants revenge. And I certainly don't kidnap teenagers and then try to blackmail them into helping me!" He had risen to his feet during his rant, intent on shouting at them, to get them to see some sort of sense. He froze though, as he felt something press into the middle of his back. Something cold and hard.

Quinn frowned slightly, looking almost saddened. "Your choice is made." He said softly.

Hot breath came to rest on Alex's neck, and he tried to jerk his head to the side, but someone had caught a hold of his hair, keeping him in place. "Good choice." The voice breathed. "Now you're mine. You're going to pay for killing them, _Alex_."

A gun fired, Luke screamed, and the world descended into blackness.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There ya go! Classes have been crazy, and they're just going to get crazier. So it's going to be another long while before an update again. I hope this chapter isn't too out of the ordinary. It's been a long few weeks, and I'm functioning on little sleep right now. If you see anything structurally wrong (aka. plot wise, grammar, redundancy, etc.) please let me know, and I'll do my best to fix it. Especially since I don't have access to my AR books right now, so I hope I'm getting the references right… and I'm a tad bit foggy on all my philosophy stuff too…**

**Anywhoozles… send me a review and let me know what you think. Honestly, I'm afraid I might have fallen off the writing ball a little, so this chapter might be somewhat lackluster. Oh, and sorry for the cliffy again… I really couldn't do anything about that. Believe me.**

**Must go, because the homework is piling up…**

**S.B.L.**


	34. Walker

**Disclaimer: **_If I were Anthony Horowitz, would I really be posting this here? For that matter, would I be suffering through university if I already had a successful career? No?_

_There's your proof. I'm not Anthony Horowitz, and I certainly do not own Alex Rider._

**_Previously…_**

_Quinn frowned slightly, looking almost saddened. "Your choice is made." He said softly._

_Hot breath came to rest on Alex's neck, and he tried to jerk his head to the side, but someone had caught a hold of his hair, keeping him in place. "Good choice." The voice breathed. "Now you're mine. You're going to pay for killing them,_ Alex_."_

_A gun fired, Luke screamed, and the world descended into blackness._

**WARNING: There is torture in this chapter. I tried to not make it graphic, so it hopefully won't be too bad. Just so you know.**

**CHAPTER 34: Walker**

* * *

><p><em>"Alec?"<em> A hesitant touch to his shoulder roused Alex just slightly. _"Come on… wake up... What did they do to you?"_ A probing touch brought Alex back, into a world of pain. He curled in on himself, as the memories of the past few hours came back as well.

"Alec?"

After the dreadful time with the leaders of Simurgh, he had been handed over to Walker and friends. There was no love lost between them, and Walker hadn't hesitated to take the time to beat him up thoroughly—even while he had been unconscious. They had shot Luke with a tranquilizer, leaving the more primitive methods to dealing with Alex.

Apparently, they were still working under orders though. Walker had made it clear that they were going to get answers about the workings of MI6 out of him. It seemed that the leaders of Simurgh had even less morals than he had originally suspected. They were willing to use anything and anyone. Something that made them even more formidable.

Walker had also made sure to let Alex in on the little secret of what had been keeping the seizures away. He had nearly forgotten about his little weakness. Unfortunately, Walker made it clear that Simurgh had been drugging him through his food. He had still been receiving the medicine… Now, it was up to Walker to make sure he still had the medicine, and for now, Simurgh still wanted him on them.

They _were_ trying to get answers out of him, after all. Of course, Walker had made it clear that if he didn't answer their questions, the medicine would disappear—no matter what Simurgh wanted. After their little _chat_, the successive questioning process had started again. He wasn't quite sure when he had lost consciousness again, but it had been sometime around when they had drugged Luke a second time…

_Speaking of Luke… _Alex knew he should probably make sure that Luke wasn't hurt too badly, but it was hard to convince his body to do anything other than ache with pain. Really, it wasn't so bad now. But having gotten out of the habit of being beat up every other month, he was unaccustomed to the brutal beating Walker's lackeys had given him. He just needed… to refocus his thoughts. Away from the beating.

After gathering his thoughts together, he opened his eyes to check on Luke. Aside from looking rather disheveled, he seemed unharmed, and didn't have the look of someone who had just been beat up. Which Alex was sure he looked like.

"Alec!" Luke's eyes widened on seeing him awake. "Are you okay?"

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead focused on sitting up. Luke was quick to add his assistance, confirming Alex's suspicions that he was unharmed. Muscles protested against the action, but in the end, Alex was sitting propped against the wall. The burning sensation that had accompanied movement died away, until there was only a dull throb in his chest. Bruised ribs, likely…

"What the hell did they do to you?"

Alex swallowed thickly. There was blood in his mouth… hopefully he hadn't lost any teeth in the process. "What do you think happened?" It came out sounding rougher and weaker than he had hoped, but the point got across to Luke.

Luke swore, before crossing to the other side of the small room and coming back with a cup of water. "Think it's safe to drink?" He asked, glancing suspiciously at the water, before handing it to Alex.

Alex grasped the cup, willing his hands not to shake. He didn't want Luke catching on to that. He needed to keep up a front—for now, at least—so that Luke didn't think everything was hopeless. In some ways, the change of scenery meant a possibility for Luke to get out. Alex knew better than to hope that _he_ would get out, but if he were able to find a way to cause a distraction, Luke might just have a chance…

Fingers snapped in front of his face. "Alec?"

Alex blinked rapidly, and stared at Luke. He glanced back down at the cup of water, before drinking it down. It didn't matter if it was safe or not. "We'll find out, I guess." The water had the added benefit of making his voice that much clearer, and after a moment, he was able to confirm that all his teeth were intact. For now…

Luke frowned at him. "That wasn't a good idea. What if they poison you?"

Alex grimaced, but was glad to see that Luke seemed to have caught on to the danger of the situation. "I think that's probably the least of our problems right now." At least it seemed that some of Braden's lessons had rubbed off and were making Luke just slightly paranoid.

Good.

It meant that at least one of them would be thinking in the right frame of mind no matter what. Alex knew better than to assume that he would be conscious all the time. In fact, since Walker had no idea who Luke was, there was the possibility that they would leave him alone altogether. Of course, they might also just go and break him from the start as well…

There was a long sigh, and Alex realized that he had probably been quiet for too long. "We're not getting out of this, are we?" Luke said it more like a statement than as a question.

"I…" Alex trailed off, wishing that he knew a better way to put it. He didn't want Luke to lose all hope, but he really didn't see a way that they were both getting out. "I don't know."

Luke sighed. "You're certainly not acting like _you_ are."

Alex bit back a sigh as well, and turned to face Luke. "I don't know." He repeated. "But I'm doing as much as I can so that we do." Even if that meant taking the others down in a bloody battle, if need be. He wasn't going to be responsible for Luke's death. "Any… any idea where we are?"

Luke shook his head, taking a seat next to Alex. "Not a clue." He flexed his wrists, before taking a closer look at Alex. "I was in here for over an hour before they threw you in."

Alex nodded vaguely.

"I don't think they cut you too deep…"

Alex groaned, as the last flickers of a memory snapped into place. The last few seconds before he had finally blacked out. Walker had had too much fun taking him apart piece by piece; taunting him until he was on the edge of unconsciousness, and then brutally pushing him firmly back into the realm of consciousness. Walker's fascination with making shallow cuts across his upper arms had reminded Alex of Dr. Three's more insane moments. It seemed that Walker had been the prodigy in the making. After all, he was well versed in the different forms of torture.

There hadn't been any movements toward more permanently disfiguring forms of torture, but then, it was only the first day. Walker was bound to have a great store of resources to pull from, especially if he didn't want to kill Alex in the first few minutes. After all the bad blood between him and SCORPIA, they were likely going to pull out the torture as long as possible, even _if_ they got the answers they were looking for.

Not that they were going to get anything out of him.

Alex hadn't even realized that Luke had gotten up, until he came back with a wet rag and some water. He immediately knew what Luke was planning, and didn't like the thought of it. At all.

"Hold still, Alec." Luke grabbed Alex's wrist before he could move away. "I don't know what all is going on here, but I'm sure as hell not going to let you get sick because something got infected."

The first touch of the water had Alex cringing away from Luke, the second had him trying to turn in the opposite direction, and the third had him trying to swat Luke's hand away. With a remarkable show of patience, Luke grasped Alex's wrists and pushed them toward his lap, while glaring at Alex.

"Stop fighting me." He said. "I'm not the enemy, and Ben would have you pinned up against the wall by now. And just because I'm not as strong as he is, doesn't mean I'm going to let you get away with anything. You're hurt, so just give up while you can still retain your dignity."

Alex rolled his eyes, but stopped struggling against Luke. Instead, he stared at the opposite wall, and bit down on his tongue. Shallow cuts only, but the water still stung. Just one more annoyance on top of all the others.

Right?

* * *

><p>In a routine that was quickly become normal, Alex woke up slumped in a hard wooden chair, wishing that the ropes weren't quite so tight. They hadn't released the name of his torturer for the day yet, but he knew that Walker was watching in the background. Just out of sight. Walker had seemed to grow tired of tearing Alex apart, so he put his own <em>prodigies<em> to work.

It was easily the sixth or seventh day—he really wasn't sure anymore, and had to rely on Luke to tell him—and was more than ready for it to be over. In situations before, he hadn't really been held and tortured for days on end. More often than not, the torturers had slipped up somewhere, giving him a chance at escape within the first few days.

Not so here.

The one saving grace was that they hadn't touched Luke yet. Even though Alex was being completely uncooperative… he wasn't answering their questions. They couldn't do anything to make him answer.

The scuff of boots coming across the floor alerted him to the presence of another entity. Somehow, even though he never showed any outward signs, they knew when he woke up. It took all of his willpower to not automatically flinch away from the person advancing on him. As it was, he only twitched slightly when a rough hand caught his chin, and jerked his face upward.

"How long can you hold out Alex? A few more days? Maybe a week?" A hand carded through his hair, taking no care when it came to mats of dried blood. "You know it's only a matter of days. Then you'll cave in."

Alex repressed a shudder, but it wasn't enough. The man chuckled, before letting go of Alex's chin and backhanding him roughly.

"You will look at me." The voice demanded.

Alex opened his eyes slowly, trying to ignore the fact that the glare of the lights made it impossible to focus on anything. Instead, he simply glared with all his might at the man in front of him, wishing that they would just make one mistake. Something.

"All you have to do is say the word. Just one little word and all your pain will stop." The fine edged scalpel that Alex had seen too many times over the past few days had reappeared. It was small, and looked harmless, but the blade was sharp. If the numerous cuts hadn't been so shallow, Alex was sure he would have died from blood loss long ago. As it was, he was sure that they were doing everything in their power to nearly kill him and then bring him back. "Are you ready to talk?"

Alex drew his courage together for another stand against the man. His third time that day. "Never." He drew a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact that the scalpel was just getting closer. "I'd rather die." He spat the words out. It had little effect though. The man was already anticipating Alex's response, and pressed the edge into the fleshy part of Alex's shoulder.

Alex bit his tongue to keep from crying out as the man pushed deeper into his shoulder. Deeper than they had gone previously. Not so deep as to do any real damage, but deep enough that any sane person would get stitches. There was no chance for stitches here…

"That could be arranged." The man leaned closer and twisted the scalpel, making Alex _nearly_ scream. He bit his tongue against it, and started counting to thirty in French.

_Un… deux…_

"Of course, that would only be _after_ you give us the information."

_Sept… huit…_

The man removed the scalpel after a moment, and Alex was nearly quivering with relief. He fell limp in his bonds again, wishing for the relief of unconsciousness again. It always meant respite from the near constant pain.

_Treize… quatorze…_

Three short slashes across his collarbone had him jerking away again, and then something prodded the wound on his shoulder.

_Vingt-deux… vingt-trois…_

Alex gasped, trying to pull away. A deep chuckle came from behind him, before the same cool voice that had welcomed him to hell spoke. "Perhaps we've been a little too soft on him… he just needs a little more _encouragement_. Nothing fatal, Nero."

_Vingt-sept… vingt-huit…_

Alex swallowed a sob as his torturer got closer again. Life was only going to get worse from here on out….

_Trente…_

* * *

><p>He felt water at his lips and automatically drank. It wasn't cool or refreshing in any sense, but at least it served the purpose of getting the taste of blood out of his mouth. A soft sigh, followed by wetness on his arm, told him that once again Luke was cleaning him up. He didn't envy him the job at all.<p>

However, he would have greatly enjoyed cleaning rather than being on the receiving end of the torture. Not that he had a choice. Nor did he wish this kind of life on anyone else. It was too painful.

Alex knew he was only partially conscious. It was the only explanation he had come up with for the half-aware stage that he drifted into before waking up fully. He was awake, but not awake. He could hear and feel what Luke did, and to some extent, he could respond—such as swallowing the water—but he couldn't act on any of the movements.

When Luke lifted his wrist up to wrap it with a fresh piece of cloth, Alex couldn't so much as twitch a finger. Not that he really wanted to… leaving the half-aware stage meant that the pain was going to come through as well. For now, everything was painless. The deep cuts on his arms, chest, and legs, didn't bother him at the moment. Neither did the wrist that he was sure was broken.

Luke's hiss of annoyance, and the immediate pressure around the offending wrist confirmed that thought, and Alex let himself drift away into the darkness. The least he could do was enjoy the last few minutes of painlessness.

* * *

><p>The first thing Alex wanted to do when he woke up was curl right back up and sleep again. His chest hurt with every breath, and he didn't just suspect broken ribs anymore. He <em>knew<em>. Along with the myriad of other injuries, it made it just plain difficult to keep breathing.

Luke was leaning against the wall next to him, an exhausted and stressed look on his face. He had been staring at the far wall of their cell, but the moment Alex's breath was hitching from the pain, he turned to Alex. A careful hand helped him sit up to drink some water down, and then put a piece of stale bread into Alex's good hand.

"Eat that. Don't make me force it down your throat."

Alex's lips twitched slightly, and he choked down a bite of the bread. He had barely eaten anything in the past day, and his stomach was all too ready to reject the little he was getting. The lack of food wasn't for a lack of trying on Luke's part though. He just hadn't been able to stomach anything.

He shot a sideways glance at Luke, taking in the older boy's appearance. Just because Luke wasn't getting interrogated and tortured didn't mean that the entire experience wasn't having an effect on him. Deep shadows had formed underneath his eyes, and he had a glazed look when he was staring at the wall.

Alex sighed. "'M sorry."

Luke turned abruptly and fastened his gaze on Alex. "Sorry for what?"

Alex shrugged as much as he could without aggravating his injuries too much. "You shouldn't be here." After all, Luke was merely a hapless civilian that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He should have been at home, safe with his parents.

Luke frowned. "I chose to help you and Ben."

"You did."

Luke surveyed him for a few long moments, before leaning closer. "Don't tell me you're giving up."

"No… not… giving up…" _Only giving up getting out of here alive_… he knew he had to do something drastic to give Luke a chance to get out. He had to do that much. For Ben… "Just… tired." That was a good way to explain it. He wanted nothing more than to sink into unconsciousness and not wake up to more pain.

Luke of course completely misinterpreted the statement. He put a careful hand on Alex's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I _know_ Ben's looking for us. He'll find us."

Alex swallowed the negative statement that just wanted to bubble up. _He might be looking for us, but they've got us hidden. There's no way. If he's even _alive_…_ Instead, Alex simple blinked slowly, and nodded slightly. He let his eyes drift closed again, fully intent on sleeping away the next few hours, but Luke's hand stopped him.

"Finish the bread. Then you can sleep."

Alex sighed, but wasn't in a mood for arguing. If Luke knew how unappetizing the food was, he was bound to be even more worried than he already was.

Things were slowly going downhill, and to Alex it felt like something was ripping him apart, piece by piece. Walker was, of course, making sure that he had his medicine on time and at a time when Alex was aware. Alex knew that eventually even that slight comfort was going to disappear. His only hope then was that something major happened and he simply didn't wake up again. At least then, it would be rather painless and not drawn out…

But he had to get Luke out first.

* * *

><p>Days had passed, and somewhere in the midst of it all, Alex found himself holding on to his mission mindset by the thinnest of threads. The last two days had been particularly brutal with Walker, and now, the slightest movement of his head made the world spin dangerously around him. He had quickly learned to refrain from doing that.<p>

Luke's insistence for him to drink more water had only served in making his stomach rebel, but thankfully, Luke hadn't tried to convince him to eat anything. He had learned the hard way, the day before, that Walker's minions had more than one way to make him revisit his food. The dry heaves and coughing in the end had come down to a very carefully measured medicine that he was allergic to. Just enough to make him utterly miserable, but not enough to actually kill him. How delightful.

He wasn't even sure that if he had started coughing blood, he would have been surprised any more. In some ways, he was amazed that it hadn't already happened, what with the broken ribs and various lacerations. They had been meticulously careful, making sure that nothing went so deep as to render him unconscious merely from the pain or blood loss. At least, not from the pain of just that _one_ cut. They drew it out as long as possible.

Between Alex and Luke, they had become less and less talkative over the pasts few days. Alex was doing his best not to let his loss of hope show through, but he knew even Luke was starting to doubt if they were ever going to get out. Alex was still waiting for the mistake that Walker and his people were bound to make, but he had no idea how much longer he could actually hold out. He was reaching his breaking point.

The door to their cell opened, and Alex heard Luke scramble up from where he was sitting. It was routine by now. Whoever they sent in to fetch him, always made sure that Luke was trapped in the corner, unable to help. Not that Alex _wanted_ Luke to try helping. He had remained relatively uninjured, and Alex planned to keep it that way.

He still had hope for Luke getting out.

Rough hands pulled him up from the floor, not caring they were jostling his broken wrist. Or that the rough handling was opening up the cuts on his arms again. No… they were probably instructed to do as little damage as possible, while still making him hurt. The room spun in circles around him, and for the first time, Alex wasn't able to get his feet underneath himself. The guards didn't care at all about that, and just proceeded to drag him out of the cell and down the hall.

With a halfhearted attempt, Alex closed his eyes and wished for the world to stop spinning. He let his head fall forward to his chest, ignoring the sensation of tugging on the back of his neck. The cuts there had only stopped bleeding the night before, and there had been little Luke could do to make the process speed up.

Even with his eyes closed, Alex could picture exactly where he was going. The little room that Walker's people used to tear him apart piece by piece was just far enough away that Luke wouldn't hear his screams, but still close enough that the walk was rather straightforward. Down the hall, past three doors and a hallway on the right, turn left, past two doors, and then down the small hallway on the right. There was only one door at the end, and it lead to Alex's own personal hell.

The guards dumped him unceremoniously into the waiting chair, but for once didn't immediately tie him down. Instead, one simply grabbed and twisted Alex's wrist, earning a sharp gasp and a depressed sob. He drew in the injured limb to his chest, biting his tongue against the sharp pain that was now radiating up and down his arm. Luke's bandaging efforts could only do so much, and it certainly didn't protect against such blatant mistreatment.

A short conversation between the guards and Walker in another language, alerted Alex to the fact that the day was going to be different. They traded a number of sharp words, before the guards left. Alex still cradled his arm against his chest, furiously holding back the tears that were threatening to spill. They had barely even started, and the pain was already reducing him to tears.

"You've been most uncooperative, Rider." Walker said. His footsteps got closer, until Alex just _knew_ he was standing right in front of him. "My best… they've tried many things. You're quite… stubborn, aren't you?" A hand grasped his hair, and yanked his head up. "I guess I should have remembered that from our days at Malagosto."

Alex blinked back his tears, and wished in vain for the room to stop spiraling around him. Walker smirked at him, before patting his cheek mockingly.

"All this time, and you're still as stubborn as hell." A sneer crossed his features, and a vicious slap made Alex's ears ring. "I would have thought you learned after the first few times. Opposition only makes us more determined to _break_ you."

Instead of responding, Alex just stared blearily at Walker. Apparently, that was the wrong response, because Walker grabbed his broken wrist, and slowly started twisting it. It didn't take long for the scream to bubble up, or for it to turn into hysterical sobs and pleas for it to stop. Walker just continued on, until Alex was gasping for breath, his pleas having trailed off as he lost coherency.

Like every other time, just when Alex thought he was going to slip into unconsciousness, Walker let off, and doused him with cold water. It snatched away the relief he _almost_ had rather quickly, and in a matter of moments, Alex was shivering uncontrollably.

It was just getting worse.

"It looks like you need to get that looked at, Rider." Walker said mockingly. "Of course, we could always set it for you. But I don't think you'd like that."

Alex shuddered, but didn't respond.

"Nero's missed you the last few days. He'll be happy to get his favorite toy back." Walker spun on his heel, and left the room. Alex didn't want to know what was coming next.

* * *

><p>"Get up." A kick unsettled Alex from his chair, and he groaned as the throbbing in his temples picked up pace. He didn't know how long they had left him alone, but it was long enough for him to drop into a light sleep. A very light sleep.<p>

When he didn't respond right away, the person jostled the chair again. Alex roused himself enough to look up at the person, though focusing was nigh impossible. If anything, the world spinning had just gotten worse. The guard sneered down at him, before yanking on his shoulder, and pulling him upright.

"I said—Get. Up."

Alex wobbled on his feet, but the business end of a gun in the middle of his back made him force himself to stand. Getting shot now wasn't going to help Luke any. The gun prodded him along, and he sucked in a sharp breath as it nudged a barely scabbed over cut on his lower back.

He made it three steps before he was sure his legs were going to give out and five more steps before they actually did. The guard grabbed his shoulder, and pulled him upright, before pushing him out the door and down the hall. They were going somewhere else. It was too early for them to take him back to Luke. After all, he was normally unconscious by then.

It was a painful walk, though it wasn't far. One of the guards had come up with the brilliant idea of giving Alex a cut every time he stumbled. By the time they reached their destination, he had ten shallow cuts on his arm. Just deep enough to hurt and draw blood.

They pushed him into a large room, immediately filling Alex with dread. He didn't like the look of the room at all. It was imposing, and left no doubt that… _something_ was going to happen.

The guards didn't make any movement toward the chair in the center of the room, and instead dragged him over to one side of the room. Walker sent a feral grin in his direction, before motioning toward another pair of guards in the room. They left without question, obviously under some kind of orders.

The only thing keeping Alex upright at the moment were the guards on either side of him. He was still shaking like a leaf, and it took all of his effort to keep his legs beneath him.

Walker crossed the room, followed closely by Nero—Walker's favorite torturer and one that Alex hadn't seen for more than two days. "You've been most uncooperative, Rider. I'd hate to have to make an example out of your friend. Luke, wasn't it? Though I guess he did try to tell my employer that he was someone else… sneaky little bugger, isn't he?"

Alex swallowed hard. _They wouldn't_…

"Just tell us what we want to know, and we won't have to deal with all this… _messiness_." Walker ran a hand down the side of Alex's face, before grabbing onto his chin. "Simurgh's still willing to be forgiving… though I would never trust a traitor like you. They're the only thing keeping you alive… _for now_."

Alex felt the blood drain out of his face, but matched Walker's glare as much as he could. "Never."

Walker tipped his head in a nod, and strode away. It seemed to be exactly what Walker wanted. Nero watched Alex with a possessive smile, before turning toward the door as well. The guards brought in a struggling figure, and Alex's eyes zeroed in on it. A cloth bag covered the persons face, and from the sound of it, they had stuffed a gag in their mouth as well.

_Luke…?_

The guards pressed the figure into the waiting chair, and summarily tied him. Walker circled the still struggling figure, before drawing his gun and pointing it at the figure. He turned and met Alex's eyes, a malicious smile on his face. "You _will_ answer our questions."

Before Alex could say or do anything, Walker had aimed and fired the gun. The figure in the chair immediately fell limp. It took Alex a moment to realize that he was screaming, and that was only when one of the guards cuffing him on the side of his head cut off the scream.

The guards started pulling him toward the… the… _body_… and Alex twisted and turned against their grasp. He didn't want to go anywhere near it. Walker watched him with a sadistic smile, before turning and kicking at the body.

_They just…_

_But he…_

_Luke…_

_It's not…_

_Shot him…_

_Dead…?_

The guards brought him until he was right in front of the… body. Blood was starting to soak through the sack around the head, and Alex's stomach heaved.

"Give us the information about Jones."

_He's dead… he's dead… he's dead… I'm sorry Ben…_

"Tell us how to find her. Tell us about MI6 headquarters. Tell us, and maybe Simurgh will still have mercy." Walker chuckled. "I wouldn't."

Alex didn't say anything. He just stared at the body. His mind was screaming at him. _Too late! Too late! He's gone!_ A hand slapped him across the face.

"Talk, Rider, or your life is going to get a whole lot worse."

Alex blinked slowly, half forming the words without saying anything. He stared at Walker. They thought… this would work? They officially took away his reason for _living_. The only thing that was keeping him alive. "Go. To. Hell."

There was a flash of anger on Walker's face, but he carefully covered it over. Instead, he motioned to Nero. "He's all yours. Just don't kill him. _Yet._"

Nero chuckled. "With pleasure."

* * *

><p>Alex wasn't entirely sure how they made it back to the small torture room. Nero had all but twisted his wrist, forcing him to stand on his own. He didn't seem to care that every movement he made either twisted or pulled on Alex's wrist, and he certainly didn't care that it was broken in the first place.<p>

As it was, by the time Alex had been shoved back into his chair, he was dizzy with pain. Nero waved the guards away immediately, muttering something to them in a foreign language. They left the room, closing the door behind them. Alex could just barely make out their footsteps walking down the hall.

Away…

"You're quite stubborn. Or, you pretend to be." Nero grinned, and picked up a larger knife than what they had used before. "Walker's a quick one to judge, but then, I guess he does have a history with you." He chuckled softly. "No matter… I'm sure I can have you singing like a bird before the day is up."

Alex swallowed, watching the movements of the knife. All his senses were screaming at him to do something—anything—but lethargy washed through him. It didn't matter anymore. Luke was gone. He didn't need to keep fighting for Luke's sake. Didn't have to keep living. As long as he died with the secrets still locked tight behind his lips—what few secrets he knew, that was—everything would be okay.

A hand touched his face, and Alex pulled away. Nero chuckled. "Vain, are we? Well… maybe that's a good place to start, for today." Nero leaned forward until his face was mere inches away from Alex's. "Wouldn't want you to be _unblemished_, now would we?"

Alex stared at the man, only registering the fact that the knife was headed for his face after a moment's hesitation. He simply did the first thing he thought of. He jerked away from the knife, and then slammed his forehead into Nero's face. The crunch of bones told Alex he had hit precisely where he was aiming, and a moment later, Nero crumpled to the floor with his hands to his face. Alex flailed blindly for the knife, and after a few more moments, he was the only person in the room still breathing.

It took a few moments for the reality of what had just happened to sink in, and then Alex was promptly throwing up what little he had in his stomach. Soon, it trailed off to just dry heaves, and Alex gagged on the bile.

_I… I did…_

He gagged again, but pushed himself out of the chair. He had his opening. He could get out…

_There's no point… Luke's dead._

He forced the negativity out of his mind. At least if he got out, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of actually _killing_ him. Not that he was going to get far. His legs were still shaking with every movement. And the thought of what he had just done…

He resolutely forced himself not to look at Nero's body, and instead, stumbled over to the door. He leaned against the door for a moment, supporting himself with his good hand. Pulling back, he had to choke down bile again, when he saw the bloody handprint he had left behind.

_Keep going_.

The room spun around him as he fumbled with the door handle, hoping that there wouldn't be any guards nearby. There was no hope if there were. Maybe they'd be nice and shoot him on the spot…

He stumbled out of the room and down the hall a ways before his legs gave out. He slid down the wall he had been half leaning against, and closed his eyes against the spinning sensation.

_Keep going._

He couldn't. There was no energy. He let his eyes slide closed, relaxing in the feeling. This was as good a place as any. What was it that Luke had called it? _Giving up_… Yes, it was a perfect place to _give up_.

He had almost slipped out of consciousness, when he heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall, followed by the rapid pace of someone in a hurry. Someone upset. He could almost feel a breeze as the someone went past him.

Moments later, there was loud swearing coming from the room he had been in. They had found Nero.

Angry footsteps came back down the hall until they were right in front of him, and someone grabbed onto his injured wrist and yanked. Had there been anyone in the building to care, they would have heard his scream. Alex's eyes flew open, and tears started streaming down his face. Fiery pain wrapped itself around his wrist and arm, until he was sure he wouldn't feel anything else. There was just the one pain.

Walker was glaring at him with murder in his eyes. "You will _pay_ for this." He raised a bloody knife—the one, Alex realized, he had used against Nero—and touched it to Alex's shoulder. "They want you alive? Well… I'm afraid there might be a little accident." The blade sunk into Alex's shoulder, and he started to scream again, until he ran out of air, and leaving him with only the unimaginable pain.

Blackness was quickly rushing in on the edges of his vision, and Alex welcomed the relief. It wasn't soon enough though, because he felt every movement that Walker made—including pulling the knife out.

"Withhold his medicine." Walker snarled, and then stalked away.

Alex welcomed the darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Um… hi?**

**Long time, no see…**

**Cliffhanger again, I know. But I hoped you liked it anyway. Thank you so much for the reviews, and I hope you'll let me know what you thought of this chapter!**

**So, you have two options for the next chapter. Option number one, I'll post the next chapter in about two weeks. Only down side, it's probably the biggest cliffhanger I've written. No joke. And you'll have to wait until the middle of December to get the next chapter (between NaNoWriMo and uni finals, I'm not going to have time to write for this). Option number two, I'll wait until the middle of December to post the next chapter, and the chapter after that will come out about a week or so later. Your choice, so please let me know in a review!**

**Sadly, we're almost to the end of the story… so keep the reviews coming in!**

**Until next time,**

**S.B.L.**


	35. Click

**Disclaimer: **_As far as I know, Anthony Horowitz finished university quite a while ago. And I have just started… Thus Alex Rider is not mine, and I do not claim to be Anthony Horowitz._

**A/N: In celebration on finally finishing finals, I have decided to post the next chapter. Not sure when the next one will be out… um… review… Oh! And please don't eat me alive at the end of the chapter. 'Nuf rambling. Enjoy…**

**_Previously…_**

_Walker was glaring at him with murder in his eyes. "You will _pay_ for this." He raised a bloody knife—the one, Alex realized, he had used against Nero—and touched it to Alex's shoulder. "They want you alive? Well… I'm afraid there might be a little accident." The blade sunk into Alex's shoulder, and he started to scream again, until he ran out of air, and was left only the unimaginable pain._

_Blackness was quickly rushing in on the edges of his vision, and Alex welcomed the relief. It wasn't soon enough though, because he felt every movement that Walker made—including pulling the knife out._

_"Withhold his medicine." Walker snarled, and then stalked away._

_Alex welcomed the darkness._

**CHAPTER 35: Click**

* * *

><p>He could feel someone wrapping his wrist with something. Something stiff was keeping his wrist from wobbling around and for the first time it actually felt stable. The pain flashed every now and then, but it was bearable.<p>

"Luke…" The sound that came out was nearly unintelligible. He licked his lips and swallowed.

Without having to say anything more, the hand disappeared from his wrist, and a moment later something cool touched his lips. The water slid down his throat, quenching his thirst slightly. After a few moments though, his stomach started rebel. The water stopped, and a hand brushed the little bit that had spilled, away.

"Luke…?"

There was indistinct murmuring from above him, and he strained to understand the words. It sounded like gibberish… And it definitely wasn't Luke. The rush of memories came back to him then. Walker taunting him. Being dragged to the second room. Nero's sneer. The shooting. Fighting Nero. Collapsing in the hall. Walker's anger. _Withhold his medicine._ He had no doubt as to what that meant.

_So who's with me now?_ It could be the enemy… but they had seemed friendly so far. Alex opened his eyes, and was blearily able to make out the figure of a fair-haired man. He pulled away, trying to get away from the person, not trusting his intentions.

The room was still spinning around Alex, despite the fact that he was definitely lying down, and definitely not moving. The man made a movement toward him, and Alex tried to curl away, despite the flare of pain from his shoulder. "Don't… please…"

The man's eyebrows furrowed for a moment, before breaking out into what could almost be smile. A friendly smile. "I'm not going to hurt you." He had a strange, thick sounding accent, but didn't seem quite as threatening. He didn't make any other movements toward Alex. "I'm…" His brow furrowed for a moment, before smoothing out again. "Well… you might as well call me Leif."

Alex blinked slowly. "Leif…"

The man, Leif, smiled again, and motioned toward Alex's arm. "Can I finish wrapping your arm? It's broken, so there's really not much I can do about, but I can at least splint it."

Alex grimaced, but nodded. After a watching the blurry figure of Leif for a few moments, Alex let his eyes close again. He was so tired, and everything hurt…

"I stopped the bleeding on your shoulder as best as I could… but it's probably best if you don't try to move around any." The pressure around his wrist increased, until it was comfortably snug. "Now, I'm not the best at setting bones, but I think you'll be okay for a while." He was being remarkably optimistic. Then again, it was entirely possible that he didn't understand what sort of place they really were. Optimism was the key to getting yourself killed.

Alex was too tired to mention anything though… Besides, it didn't matter anymore. Luke was gone, this time permanently. If he ever got out, Ben was going to hate him for it. _If_ Ben was still alive. Something told Alex that he was… That meant that Ben would have all the more reason to hate him. He had been the cause of everything. The reason why they had been separated in the first place. It didn't matter that Alex couldn't have done anything to prevent the final results. He couldn't have stopped it. Aside from telling Walker what he wanted to know. As soon as he had said anything though, they would have both been dead… but perhaps that would have been better than _this_. Then there wouldn't have been _anyone_ left behind. No one for people to blame.

Of course, now that they had killed Luke, there was absolutely no way they were getting any sort of information from him. He would rather die than give them information—he would rather die. Then he wouldn't have to face Ben again… he didn't care about escaping anymore.

"How long have you been here?" Leif asked, breaking through his thoughts.

Alex swirled the numbers around in his head, trying to figure it out. Luke had always been the one… "More than… two… weeks… Where we?"

"Northern Norway." Leif's voice sounded puzzled.

Alex's stomach plummeted. No wonder MI6 hadn't found them. Even if they had found them on the island, they had no way of knowing where they had been moved to. The chances of them even finding his body was nigh impossible. They would be looking in the wrong part of the world…

"How'd you get here?"

Alex sighed. "Kid…napped."

"Where?"

"Wales… then Iran. Com-complicated."

"Sounds like it."

"Hmm…" Alex drifted off to sleep, wondering how long it was going to take for the lack of medicine to kick in. Maybe that would be what tipped him over the edge…

* * *

><p><em>"You were too slow." The figure stalked forward, and Alex tried to pull away. "You should have done something. Given yourself up. You let them <em>kill_ Luke."_

_"'M sorry… didn't mean too…" He backed up until he was pressed against the wall. "Wanted… wanted him safe."_

_Ben sneered at him. "You didn't try hard enough. Not until _after_ he was dead."_

_"'M sorry… 'm sorry… didn't mean too… wasn't supposed to die…"_

"Kid! Stop it. Stop struggling. You're making things worse. Shhh…" A firm hand pressed down on Alex's good shoulder, pinning him to the floor. "Give me a hand here."

_Ben glared at Alex. "He wasn't supposed to _die_. Just like your Jack wasn't supposed to die." He pushed Alex in the chest, and Alex flinched away from the contact. "You didn't care. You should have tried harder. But, _noooo_, you cared about your _own_ life. Sacrifice yourself for once Alex."_

_"Sorry… sorry… sorry…"_

"Get his arm. Just be careful of his wrist."

Another hand pinning Alex down, caused his eyes to fly open. The room was a wash of colors and blurred before his eyes. The only distinct thing he could see was Ben advancing on him.

_"You're just going to get the others killed as well, you know."_ Ben glared at him, distaste etched in his features. _"What use are you when all you do is kill others? All you ever think about is yourself."_

_"Sorry… sorry… please… Didn't m-mean too…"_

"What's he's going on about…?" A hand swept over his forehead. "He's got a high fever…"

Alex shuddered, and then felt the chills take him. Ben was still berating him, blaming for Luke's death. The room spun in circles, but anywhere Alex looked, he could see Ben's angry face clearly. Other shapes moved in the background, making it seem like time was both dancing by and going as slow as possible. He couldn't breathe clearly. Everything hurt. Ben hated him.

It was better to die.

* * *

><p><em>He couldn't warm up. Everything was so cold. So completely cold. It settled into his bones, making the shudders impossible to ignore. He couldn't hold his body still either, and the wracking shivers sent spasms of pain through him repeatedly.<em>

_No matter what he did, he couldn't stop the jostling of his right side. His shoulder and wrist throbbed uncontrollably, and though he occasionally heard the voices outside of his mind, they were rarely clear enough to understand. In some sense, he knew that everything he was seeing was in his head, but it was nearly impossible to separate fact from fiction._

_The only thing he knew for sure was that the knife wound in his shoulder was infected and the man named Leif was worried. Everything else was up for opinion._

_Alex shuddered again, almost dreading what nightmare was going to come to him next. Though he occasionally knew that it wasn't real, that didn't stop it from _feeling_ real. Ben's anger was logically placed. And so was every other person's._

_Luke's was the worst. He pretended like nothing had happened. Like everything was okay. While everyone else hated him for it, Luke didn't blame him. The opposite reaction…_

_The creeping dread was the only warning to the oncoming nightmare. The sensation crawled up his legs, and he couldn't help but twitch._

"It's starting again."

_The hissing voices at the back of his mind came next. The accusing, blame placing voices that didn't necessarily belong to any one person he knew._

_"He's dead."_

_"You killed him."_

_"People would be better off without you."_

_"The world's just getting worse. And you're no help."_

_"What teenager has killed as many people as you have?"_

_That was when he started running. Alex had no other choice. It was the only way he could get some sort of relief from the constant pressure of the voices. And he couldn't deny that there was truth to the words. It was his fault—no matter what Ben had said before. He had changed his mind now…_

"See if you can get some water into him. The fever's never going to break if he's dehydrated."

In a moment of coherency, Alex felt someone lift his head up, and dribble water carefully into his mouth. It disappeared too quickly, and Alex still felt as parched as he had before getting the water. He blinked his eyes open, staring at the multicolored room around him, wishing for more water. Just that much would help…

His eyes grew exhausted after only a moment of being open, and he let them slide shut again, slipping back into the nightmare.

_His eyes roved around the room, looking for the people he knew were there somewhere, but the faint halo of people weren't present. Instead, all he saw were thousands of beetle-like creatures, scurrying across the floor toward him._

_He jerked his good arm out to the side, trying to keep the insects away from himself. They kept coming any way, snapping pincher like jaws at him. He kicked his legs, trying to keep them from coming closer._

Someone swore in the background. "He's going to hurt himself."

_Something immobilized his legs, and the insects swarmed closer and closer, until they were scurrying up his legs. The movements made him twitch in anticipation. Their sharp legs poked his skin, and the jaws were just waiting to find the right place to latch on to…_

_The accusing voices in the background had grown to a worrying fury, hurling down judgments and truths toward him._

_The first bite was on his arm. His already injured arm. He flinched away from it, but the one bite seemed to mean more and more bites. One after another, they bit into his skin, until he wrenched his arm away from whatever was holding it down and clawed at the insects. He scratched at his arm, ignoring the bandages on his arm._

_The insects kept biting and swarming, and Alex twisted and turned, trying to get away from the bugs. It didn't matter anymore that moving hurt—the bites were worse. His hand clawed at his arm, making red streaks appear underneath the insects, but the insects didn't disappear. They just kept coming._

"Don't let go."

_Something pinned his arm to his side, so he couldn't fight back against the insects any more. He bucked and twisted anyway, trying everything to get the insects off. They just kept coming. Crawling up his arm. Over his shoulder. Up his neck…_

_It wasn't until they reached his face, that he started screaming. And by then it was too late._

* * *

><p>"We need to get out of here."<p>

"He's looking a little better."

"For now… Things are going to get worse for him, and he's not going to make it another couple of days. If he doesn't get some kind of help, the infection's going to spread."

"At least they gave us plenty of water."

There was a prolonged sigh. "That's the only thing keeping him alive right now."

Alex groaned as he felt the pain of the real world swarm up around him. Everything from his head to his toes was sore, and the throbbing pain in his arm didn't let him forget that it was both broken and had a deep cut.

Was that what the voices were talking about? Him?

"Hey, kid… finally starting to wake up?" A hand touched his shoulder, and a moment later, there was a cup of water at his lips. He drank as much water as he could, not having any idea when the next drink was going to come. "Whoa, slow down. I don't think you want to drown yourself…"

Just as the voice said that, Alex breathed in some of the water and started coughing. It shook his entire chest and shoulders, sending tendrils of pain through him.

"See? What did I tell you?" The voice chuckled softly, a strained laugh, before putting a hand underneath Alex's shoulders, and lifting him up slightly. The change in angle helped, and after a few moments, Alex was breathing clearly again. "There… not so bad. Hey, kid, you've got to be careful. Don't want all our hard work to go to waste."

Alex fumbled with his tongue for a moment, before rasping out the words. "'M not… kid…"

The voice laughed again, this time not quite so strained. "Believe me, kid, when you're at least ten or fifteen years my junior, you're a _kid_."

Alex forced his eyes to open, and tried to focus on the person hovering over him. "L… Leif?"

The figure grinned. "Got it in one. More water?"

Alex blinked slowly, before nodding. This time though, he could only take so much before his stomach started to rebel against him. Though he was still thirsty, he couldn't drink any more. Thankfully, Leif seemed to understand immediately.

"We'll try some more later, okay?"

Alex shot a glance around the room—which still had a tendency to spin around him—trying to figure out where he was. It wasn't the same cell they had dumped him in before… This one was bigger, though there was still no bed. What looked like nothing more than ratty rags made up his bed on the floor, but at least it gave him at least some relief from the cold stone.

Every now and then, some sort of image crossed his perception, that he knew didn't fit with what he was seeing. But it seemed so real… He dozed in and out for the better part of an hour, before Leif tried to explain something about delirium and hallucinations messing with what he really saw. In some ways, Alex knew that that was the perfect answer to what he was seeing. But that was only while he wasn't actually seeing anything. While he was coherent.

The latest imagining was of Luke standing on the other side of the room, just watching Alex, a glare of hatred set in his features. He had long since joined the others in accusing Alex, berating Alex for not doing enough, for not sacrificing himself… It was worse than everyone else that accused him, because Alex could still fit two vastly different pictures together in his head. The last time he had seen Luke in their cell, and then when he had been killed.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the figure any more. At least this round of hallucinations had stopped being verbal, he could pretend to ignore it with his eyes shut. A shudder worked its way down his spine anyway, when he thought of the scene in the room. All of it in spite. Just because he wouldn't tell his secrets…

It wasn't until hours later that something happened.

Alex had curled up in a corner of the room, having stumbled around the perimeter once and decided that dying in peace was preferable to dying from torture. His head was pounding, the room still spinning, and his arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Leif had vocalized his regret for not being able to do anything other than give him water, but Alex had just waved him off. If someone hadn't been with him, to give him water, he probably wouldn't have any. He probably would have been dehydrated… and that was anything but peaceful.

Thoughts of a peaceful death were thrown out of his mind the moment the door to their room swung open, and Walker and his guards marched in. He made a motion toward Leif, and the guards quickly pulled him away from where Alex was sitting.

Pulling together the last of his energy reserves—what little he had gained back over the past few hours—Alex glared at Walker with every ounce of hatred he could come up with.

Walker glared right back, until he was standing in front of Alex, forcing him to look up. "Well. Your time for payment has come."

Alex swallowed, remembering what Walker had all but shouted at him in the hall. This was it. The end was coming. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not… "Go… to hell."

Walker scowled at Alex, before gesturing the guards over. "Bring him." He spun on his heel, and left the room. The guards didn't even give Alex a chance to get up, instead jerking him up by the shoulders and dragging him out of the room. He caught a glimpse of Leif's closed off face before the door slammed shut behind him.

He hoped that Leif found a way out…

With a disjointed reality, Alex realized that the latest cell was only a hall over from his old cell. _Ex-cell_? The rest of the walk was familiar to him, and he knew the exact room they were taking him to. It wasn't until they had pulled him into the room and forced him down onto his knees, that he registered the fact that they had broken open the scab on his shoulder. Again.

Walker paced in front of Alex, not seeming to care that fresh blood was already starting to drip to the floor. A terrifying expression covered his face, and Alex didn't want him to turn on him. It was inevitable that he did.

"You've been nothing but trouble." Walker spat. "You've been responsible for the death or imprisonment of numerous leaders, and no one's found a sufficient way to make you pay."

He walked over to a table in the corner of the room, and picked up a small square object. He tossed it from hand to hand before slowly walking back toward Alex.

"Simurgh's been tying my hands. They wanted information from you. They were willing to strike a _bargain_ with you." He sneered at Alex, taking another decisive step toward Alex. "But you never gave that information. And now it's too late. Your little pals at MI6 got a hold of them. Trying to find you. Isn't it ironic, the one thing that they do to get you back, only results in you getting _killed_? Simurgh was the only thing keeping you alive."

Alex swallowed. Someone was still looking… Ben…? What would he think when he found the bodies? Would he still hold a grudge against Alex…?

Walker prodded the wound on Alex's shoulder, earning a wince. "Ah, yes. Completely at my mercy." He smirked at Alex. "Unfortunately, we don't have unlimited time." He tossed the little device in his hands, before bringing it down in front of Alex's nose. "I'm not sure you're acquainted with what this can do. It's much like a taser, but better."

_But worse…_

"I can change the voltage on here from something that would kill you almost instantly, to a light shock that will only paralyze your muscles for a few seconds." He flicked the switch on for a second, causing a sharp crackle and Alex could see the electric current arcing from one side of the device to the other. "Perhaps we should start out small first. Wouldn't want you to be overwhelmed all at once."

The first shock earned a surprised yelp from Alex.

The second and third shocks were more painful and lasted longer.

The fourth and fifth shocks did in any resistance he was holding up, and everything just went downhill from there…

* * *

><p>Alex could feel his fingers twitching, but he couldn't do anything about it. No matter how much he concentrated on stopping the muscle spasms, it was out of his control. The spasms in his legs had thankfully died off, leaving just an ache and occasional twitch.<p>

Each shock was making it harder to breathe and to think—though the trouble thinking might have been directly related to the lack of oxygen in his system. Walker certainly hadn't lost any interest in his… _toy_. Every five or so shocks meant an increase in the voltage, with a ten-minute break every half-hour.

They were on their third break. He had come close to losing consciousness more than once, but Walker had made sure to throw water on him whenever he got close. In the end, that just made everything worse. Alex had thrown up more than once in the process, which left his throat burning and his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

His only reassurance was that it was all going to be over soon. Walker could drag it out for however long, but it meant the same ending. Just a while longer.

Walker swept back into the room, and nudged Alex in the ribs with his boot. "Count your blessings, Rider. I'm running out of time to deal with you." The device pressed into his side, and flicked on. Alex tried to arch away from the contact, but Walker was persistent, and a strangled sound erupted from his throat.

By the time Walker removed the device again, Alex had lost the ability to scream or make any sort of noise, and tremors wracked his entire body. He had no idea how long it had lasted, but each time felt like an eternity. Unconsciousness waved just outside of his reach, and he yearned for some sort of true relief.

Vaguely he could hear Walker ordering someone in the background to douse him with water, and moments later, he was pulled forcefully back into reality. Walker grabbed his hair, and forced his head up, snarling something at him.

"—letting you live. They all made the same mistake. Even letting you die is too easy, but I'm all out of time." He threw Alex's head down, smiling grimly when it hit the floor with a resounding thud.

Alex closed his eyes. The room was spinning again. His thoughts were out of control. He couldn't think.

"…three minutes… base of his skull… don't stop early… just leave him… survives … die without help…"

The room continued to spin, even though his eyes were shut. He felt sick. He wanted to curl up and go to sleep…

Someone rolled him over, so he was lying on his chest. The injuries that he had once been so worried about, didn't matter anymore. It was practically the end anyway.

He felt the small device being placed at the base of his skull, and swallowed quickly. He knew what was coming next.

He was waiting for that fatal click.

_Sorry, Ben… I didn't mean to…_

He breathed in. He breathed out.

_Click._


	36. Steps

**Disclaimer: **_Alex Rider is not mine. If only I had the money Anthony Horowitz has…_

**_Previously…_**

_He felt the small device being placed at the base of his skull, and swallowed quickly. He knew what was coming next._

_He was waiting for that fatal click._

Sorry, Ben… I didn't mean to…

_He breathed in. He breathed out._

Click.

**CHAPTER 36: Steps**

* * *

><p><em>Thump. Thump. Tha…bump.<em> He could feel his heart beating. _Thump. Thump. Tha…bump._ He wasn't quite sure why that felt like such an accomplishment. _Thump. Thump. Tha…bump._ Especially not with the splitting headache that was trying to take up most of his concentration.

He shivered violently, feeling the cold settle into his bones. Why was it so cold? What happened to the blankets…? _Must've fallen off…_ He tried to roll over, but something flashed through him—a sharp pain—and he barely managed to keep himself from throwing up. The thought of the extra discomfort involved in moving to throw up, made him instead concentrate on relaxing his muscles.

He slipped back asleep somewhere in the midst of it all…

* * *

><p>He was shivering. At least, he thought he was. He could feel his arms and legs trembling. Something was telling him that he was forgetting something important… but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. It related to the shivering… somehow.<p>

He swallowed, wishing that someone would bring him water. They usually did… But, no. He was alone.

_Right?_

He strained to hear someone, but the only thing he heard was his own shallow breathing. If he wanted water, he'd have to get it himself.

He didn't like the sound of that.

Moving seemed like it was the last thing he wanted to do. He had learned that the hard way the first time… Besides, there was the added effect that he had no idea if his muscles would hold him. The shivering was taking a toll… and he couldn't seem to calm it down either.

But he needed the water…

Summoning all his strength together, he forced himself to open his eyes, blearily looking at the room around him. He didn't see anything that looked like water… There had to be some somewhere though. There always was.

_Always…?_

He let his eyes slide closed in confusion, trying to figure out where the wayward thought had come from. It didn't match with… anything. He sighed, and drew an arm close to his chest. He'd figure it out eventually. He always did. Maybe he just needed some more sleep…

* * *

><p>His head pounded, and his mouth felt drier than a desert. His tongue felt thick and made it hard to swallow. Not to mention hard to breathe…<p>

He needed water.

He refused to give up quite so quickly as… _last time._ Alex blinked his eyes open, trying to take in the details of the wall. It was indistinct, with faint dark marks on the walls. Something told him that he didn't want to concentrate on what exactly made the dark marks on the walls.

The worst of the shivering had died down, but he still felt frozen to the core. He tried to move the fingers on his right hand, and was rewarded with a flash of pain traveling up and down his arm. A choked cry escaped him, and he had to fight down the rising sensation of nausea.

Moving his other hand didn't bring the same reaction, but he did feel something sticky and wet. Curiosity won over his desire to stay still, so he pushed himself partially off the floor. He gasped as other injuries that he wasn't aware of made themselves known. He cradled his hurt arm to his chest, and pulled away from the floor.

The dark stain surrounding where he had been lying, turned his stomach, nearly making him vomit.

_It's blood… oh, god, it's blood… my blood…_

He heaved, before turning away from the stain.

_What's going on?_

He blinked rapidly, trying to ignore the dizziness that was assailing him. He just had to think logically… There were plenty of clues around to give him the answers. He just had to find them. Fighting down the sick sensations, he clumsily stood up and staggered over to the wall. Black spots danced across his vision, but he refused to give in. He wanted answers first. He had spent enough time sleeping already.

The door from the room was partially opened, and Alex stumbled his way over to it. The wall beside him ended up doing half the work, but he managed without sinking to the ground—like his legs were pleading with him to do. Half of his body wanted to give up the useless venture, while the other half wanted to know what was going on… For now, the curious side was winning.

It wasn't until he had pushed open the door, and stumbled his way into the hall that the memories started to click back into place. _Kidnapped by Simurgh. Clarke and Quinn pushing their agenda. The request for information… _There was a feeling that the memories were old though. The hall wasn't one in the Simurgh headquarters. It was in the wrong style. _Too cold._

_And where is Luke?_

He blinked, confused. He wasn't entirely sure where the thought had come from, but now that he thought about it, Luke _was_ missing… surely he was around somewhere though. Alex took a stumbling step down the hall, with only the wall succeeding in keeping him upright. How long had he laid there…? Hours? Days? The place still wasn't fitting into his memories. The island that Simurgh was on was warm. He was currently chilled to the bone… It didn't fit… So where _was_ he?

He made it a total of ten staggering, shuffling steps before his knees gave out, and he crumpled to the ground. The burst of pain along his arm and side caused a barely muffled scream of pain. A small part of his brain was yelling at him to get up and moving, before someone found him, but he was too tired to really care.

_I'll just close my eyes… for a few minutes…_

* * *

><p><em>"Get up Alex. You can't give up. Not now. Get up."<em>

Alex couldn't stop the whimper that bubbled up when he tried to move. His arm—he was sure it had to be broken, though he wasn't quite sure _how_—was throbbing with every breath. It probably didn't help that he was half lying on it…

_"You can still get out. Don't give these bastards what they want. They want you to give in."_

He opened his eyes to blink blearily at the walls around him, surprised for a moment that no one had found him out of place. Everything in his mind was still a jumbled mess, but the spinning sensation seemed to have disappeared for the time being… he wasn't positive it was going to stay that way once he got up.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the pain he knew was about to come, and heaved himself into an upright position. He was in no way standing, but merely sitting and leaning against the wall. The worst of the spinning sensation came back for a few moments, but disappeared shortly after Alex started to get his wits about him again. Or as much of his wits as he could gather when everything was muddled together in a fog.

Nothing in the hall was in clear focus, but Alex knew that there was something important he was missing. Some visual cue… There had to be something out there to jumpstart his memory. It was obvious that there were more than a few chunks missing, and they likely contained some important information.

_"Don't give in Alex."_

He groaned, but pushed himself up from the floor. That was a feat in and of itself, and he would have been more than happy to have stayed where he was after that. He didn't want to move any more than absolutely necessary. Though the spinning sensation had gone for the moment, his head was still pounding, disrupting any thoughts that attempted to get started.

He stumbled almost blindly down the hall, guessing which way to turn when he reached an intersection. Something told him that he needed… to go to the left. He had no idea why, but some memory buried underneath everything else was telling him that if he went left, he would find a way… to somewhere important.

There was more leaning against the wall than actual walking, and Alex quickly found that supporting himself with one arm wasn't exactly easy. His right arm was throbbing in tune with his heartbeat, but the pain seemed somewhat diminished when he kept from moving it. It wasn't possible though. The slightest movement caused fiery pain to envelop his arm and shoulder, and had sent him to his knees more than once.

He reached the second connecting hall, and let himself sink to his knees again. His entire body was trembling from the effort of walking. It hurt so much… and he was so tired. Alex blinked twice, trying to focus on the wall in front of him. Strange shapes were floating across the wall, and in some distant part of his brain, he knew that he was seeing things.

Something told him that he had experience with these… hallucinations. Merely the fact that the colors looked so outlandish made him stop and ponder. There was more to what he was remembering. He was missing something _very_ important.

He took a deep breath—or at least started to, and then stopped when it began to hurt—and gathered his strength together. He didn't know where he was going, but he was going to get somewhere. Staying around to wait for someone unfriendly to find him wasn't going to be the answer. He needed to find Luke. After all… he had to be around somewhere. Alex knew that Simurgh had been showing an interest in Luke, and they weren't going to…

Alex cut off his line of thinking, as new memories forced their way into the front of his mind. _The choice… Walker taking over… The days of torture… Refusing to give information…_ Alex shuddered and didn't care that he had fallen to the ground again. It didn't matter. _The torture room… Walker's final move… Luke's_ death_… _Alex curled in on himself, wishing he could ignore the truth in the memories. _Leif's help… the hallucinations and fever… the electrocution… the _click_._

They had left him to die… but he wasn't dead.

As far as Alex was concerned, he wished he was.

* * *

><p>He was sure fate was laughing at him. According to all technicalities, he should have been dead. His mind was more than willing to inform him that a series of electrical shocks should have overwhelmed his system. And that the continuous shock, directly to the base of his skull, should have disrupted some sort of connection. Permanently.<p>

It hadn't.

While he doubted that he had gotten away without at least having a seizure—which would explain the after effects of confusion, all around grogginess, and trembling—it hadn't done anything more. He was still as close to death as he had been hours earlier. Right on the doorstep. But the fever wasn't enough to kill him at the moment. In a few days, yes, but not right then.

Alex shuddered, wishing that he had just never woken up in the first place. It would have been simple. He was ready to go. No one was going to want him around anyway. He just ended up killing everyone he met. It was dangerous to even know his name. Simurgh was going to continue going after people, and he didn't doubt that the ex-SCORPIA members would stop their killing either. He wanted people to be safe again, and that wasn't going to happen with him around.

_"Don't give up… Don't forget Leif."_

Alex blinked slowly. The annoying voice was back, but it had a point. There was still Leif… The least he could do was ensure that he had a way out. If they hadn't killed him already… Alex heaved himself to his feet, trying to ignore the pain rippling down his right side. Now that he had a goal in mind, he could at least motivate himself to get out of the hall. Who knew, maybe if someone stumbled across him, they would put him out of his misery without making a fuss.

The walk turned into a haze of pain somewhere along the way, and the time between each step slowly got longer and longer, until Alex wasn't quite sure _if_ the next step was going to be able to come at all. His breath started hitching in his chest somewhere down the second hallway—the one he knew lead to a potential way out.

_Leif first…_ It was like a mantra in his mind. He wasn't about to let himself become sidetracked through the pain. He had one sole reason to not curl up in a ball somewhere, and that was to make sure Leif got to safety. If nothing else, he could do something productive with his last few hours. Maybe one last move toward helping someone would be enough to tip the balance in his favor, and he'd get a peaceful death. Not that he deserved that… not after everything that had happened.

His goal was almost within sight when the first wave of nausea came. He slid to the floor, fighting back the sensation. He was _not_ going to be sick. He had gotten this far, he wasn't going to give in now. He coughed, choked, and spluttered, fighting down the intense feeling of sickness. Something told him that he wasn't going to get much further.

_"Keep going."_

Alex blinked slowly, staring at the shifting colors on the wall next to him. He tilted his head slightly, contemplating the lurid shade of green that covered the wall. Surely, they wouldn't decorate with such colors… The world abruptly took a ninety-degree turn, and Alex found himself staring up at the ceiling. He barely kept himself from crying out when he fell on his arm. Instead, his vision merely darkened dramatically, and he struggled to hold onto consciousness.

_"Go help Leif…"_

The annoying voice was back… and it wanted him to do something. Help Leif… Alex groaned, contemplating the effort it would take to make it the rest of the way down the hall. The door to the—cell?—was within sight from his point on the floor, but he knew he would have to figure out the locking system. Of course, there was always the possibility that Leif wasn't there any more… that maybe he had gotten out already. _Or they've killed him…_

Alex immediately pushed his thoughts away from that line of thinking. He wasn't even going to contemplate that. If there was someone there, there was. If there wasn't, he was giving up at that point. There was no use to go on, anyway. He had no illusions about getting out alive. It just wasn't happening. And people would hate him if he did come back. Everyone was dead, after all.

His stomach rolled again, and this time Alex wasn't able to stop the heaves. It only succeeded in agitating the injuries covering his body. The sobs and tears quickly followed after, until he was nearly having a complete breakdown on the floor. He couldn't go on like this.

_"Just open the door."_

Right. That was really all he needed to do, after all. If he got the door open, Leif would be free to escape. Alex would be free to just curl up in a corner somewhere. Maybe he'd be lucky enough to find a blanket to make it a little bit comfortable…

_"Get up."_

He blinked slowly, trying to overcome the lethargy that had settled in. He was quite content to just stay where he was, but it seemed that the annoying voice in his head wasn't going away. Not that he was entirely sure where it was coming from in the first place…

If only to stave off the voice longer, Alex worked on getting back up onto his feet. Not easy in any way. The fall seemed to have broken open more injuries than he had originally thought. The spinning came back with a vengeance the moment he came semi-upright, and Alex ended up closing his eyes against the conflicting information that his brain was trying to send. It was _not_ the perfect time to slip into a dead faint after all.

It took five long minutes to work his way down the last thirty feet of the hall to the door. Black spots were starting to work their way across his vision—along with the brightly colored spots that certainly didn't belong—by the time he reached the door. He wasn't entirely sure how to even open the door, and he nearly collapsed again, thinking that it might be an electric lock. He had never been conscious going back into the rooms. They had always beaten in to a bloody pulp by then…

When he finally found the lock, he nearly laughed at the simplicity of it. It was nothing more than a deadbolt. He had no idea if there was a key space on the other side, but they had kept enough guards around that there hadn't even been thoughts of jumping one and escaping. All he had to do was flip the bolt, and open the door. Then he'd be free to find a corner to curl up in. Simple.

Not quite. It felt to Alex that every time he made a movement toward turning the bolt, the stupid thing _moved_ itself. Then again, that might have had something to do with the fact that he was barely keeping upright… His hand brushed over it a number of times, but it wasn't until the fifth or sixth try that he was actually able to grasp onto the offending object. Turning the knob was another thing entirely. It took another couple of tries before he got any sort of success. He had absolutely no strength in his arm or hand.

It was only as he was getting ready to give up with a cry of frustration, when the lock finally slid out of place. He fumbled for the handle on the door, doing his best not to throw himself off balance. The door swung open slowly, and he almost let out a cry of despair, not seeing anyone within. Three stumbled steps into the room corrected his assumption. Two persons were next to the wall.

"Kid?"

Alex noted the shock and slight apprehension in the voice, but wasn't able to do anything more than that. His energy was spent. The room was spinning at an alarming rate. Fighting everything was impossible, and it was catching up with him now. Leif could get out now. His job was done.

He wasn't in the least surprised at the sudden rush of darkness in his vision. It simply didn't matter anymore.

* * *

><p>He felt like dying. He probably was… though why he couldn't have just stayed unconscious he wasn't quite sure. It certainly would have made things a whole lot simpler, after all. Then no one would have any qualms about just leaving him be. He wasn't going to get dramatically better any time soon. Likely, never would…<p>

It was a struggle to breathe, rolled onto his side. The broken ribs that he hadn't really noticed earlier were making their presence known. Very loudly. At least there was a bit of padding under his head. It was the small things that he had to look for. Of course, padding meant that someone else was around. He didn't like the thought of that. He would have preferred to die in peace. He didn't want an audience.

He groaned and tried to roll over onto his back, to take some of the pressure off his ribs, but something stopped him partway through the movement. Something that had just a bit of give, but was actively keeping him in place.

"Oh, no you don't." The voice startled him, and Alex tried to pull away, only in the opposite direction. He didn't care about the pain it would cause… Only, something stopped him again. "Just hold still kid. Give yourself a few moments to recover. You had a pretty bad seizure."

Alex resisted the urge to open his eyes. Was everything he had thought just some kind of bad dream? Was he actually okay somewhere? Not dying? He knew from experience that a seizure left him feeling worse than dead… but that wouldn't explain the broken ribs. There was no imagining that pain, after all.

"None of that. Slow down your breathing."

The light chastisement alerted Alex to the fact that he was well on his way to working himself into a tizzy. It wasn't the greatest idea at the moment. But what he would do for some kind of painkiller… he had never realized just how much he relied on them after a seizure. He had no doubt that half the pain would disappear once his muscles stopped protesting.

A cup came to his lips, with the urge to drink, but to drink slowly. He only managed a couple short swallows before he felt his stomach trying to rebel. It took a few moments before the impending feeling of throwing up disappeared, and by then he had felt whatever it was near his chest back off.

"Hey, kid. I need to see what I can do for your arm, okay?"

_Arm…?_

"It's probably not going to feel good at all, but if we want to get out of here, I at least need to rewrap it. Otherwise it's going to hurt every time you move." The pressure near his back, moved away, until he only felt the ghosting of hands of his upper arm.

To say that the sudden pain appeared there was unexpected was an understatement. The scream that escaped him came out strangled and hoarse. It died out some after a few seconds, but that didn't stop the whimpering and tears that had sprung to his eyes. He wanted to thrash against the movement, but something was pressing into his hip, keeping him in place.

"Shh… Just take a deep breath, okay? We have to do this, or it's going to hurt a lot more when we get out of here." A hand touched his forehead for a moment, before returning to the work on his arm. He barely registered the fact that something cool was touching his burning arm, before the sensation disappeared. "Can't have you jostling your arm around now, can we?"

The words took a while to worm their way through his mind, and even then, it took him a while to actually comprehend it. They were planning to leave… and take him along. For some reason, Alex thought that wasn't a good idea. They were supposed to leave him… but he wasn't entirely clear as to why. Maybe if he said something… "No… go… way…" He couldn't suppress the gasp and shudder as something tightened uncomfortably around his shoulder. The words didn't want to leave his throat, anyway. "Le-leave me… want to… sleep—ach." It was a near thing. He barely kept from screaming again.

The hand to his forehead returned, until the worst of the pain died away to a low throb. "We're not about to leave you here. We wouldn't leave you behind, not after you got us out. We wouldn't be getting out if you hadn't showed up."

"Oh…" He was confused now. Why did he have the feeling that there would be nothing better than for them to leave him behind…? And there was definitely another person, so why didn't they say something too? Maybe they were just as bad off as he was. His breath hitched as something touched his lower arm. He had thought that the upper portion had been bad. This was worse. Far worse.

The agony blazed up the offending appendage, and Alex was positive that he couldn't physically manage a scream anymore. Nothing came out except for a choked sound and a blazing pain in his throat. He had screamed himself out, it seemed. This time he couldn't stop the writhing, and someone pinned his good shoulder to the ground, while still keeping him rolled onto his side. It was a statement to how weak he was that they actually managed to keep him in place.

After that, he was too far gone to really pay attention to anything anymore. The talking turned into a wordless buzz in his ears, though he could tell when the tone turned from merely soothing, to actively worried. He didn't make any movement to respond to the worries though. The moment he got a few moments free from the burning pain, he allowed himself to slip unconscious.

* * *

><p>"Okay kid, we've let you regain your wits and rest a bit, but we've really got to get going." A hand lifted his head up slightly, and when he felt the cup at his lips, he swallowed the water gratefully. He didn't really want to consider what was undoubtedly coming next. "Let's get you sitting up, and we'll work from there."<p>

Alex groaned as the person, as gently as possible, pulled him up into a sitting position. Even though he had yet to open his eyes, he just _knew_ that the room was spinning around him. And the rest hadn't seemed to help at all. It had just given him a chance to stiffen up. His entire right arm throbbed, but he could feel the pressure from the bandages. It would be so much worse if they weren't there…

"There. That's not so bad, is it?" The person moved so that Alex's head was resting against their chest. The cool air swirled around him, and for the first time, Alex realized that his shirt was missing. Not only was it missing, but he was freezing as well. It was only then that he started shivering, and it was none too comfortable. "Grab that blanket." The statement clearly wasn't pointed in his direction, and a few moments a thin blanket was draped around his shoulders. It helped—to an extent. He doubted he would be warm any time soon though.

After a few minutes, spinning sensation seemed to die down, and Alex risked peeking out for a moment. He was staring at a rather dirty looking shirt, but he hadn't expected much more than that. The brightly colored patches though… seemed somewhat out of place. That was Alex's first clue that he wasn't entirely with it. He shuddered as some half-remembered memory of being attacked by insects fluttered to the front of his mind.

"One step at a time, okay?" A very hesitant hand reached for his shoulder—the uninjured one—and gave it a light squeeze. "You're going to have to be up to walking with support. I can't carry you out of here. And no, we're not going to leave you here. It's not happening."

"Hmm…" He blinked slowly, watching the fabric slide in and out of focus. If that was all they wanted, then maybe he could do that. It would take a lot of effort though…

"Kid?" The person leaned back, tilting Alex's head up. The person smiled. "Hey, look at that. Eyes open and everything."

Alex blinked slowly. The person looked familiar… but he couldn't for the life of him remember a name. There was nothing aside from a vague recollection that he had known the name at one point in time. But that had been a long time ago… it seemed like an eternity.

"Are you feeling up to a bit of a trek? My partner and I have a base in a cave nearby, and we'll be able to radio for help from there. Sorry to say, but it's not a short walk."

Alex started to say something, but the words choked off in his throat. Trying to say anything hurt. He couldn't speak…

The strange man seemed to catch onto that immediately, and gave him a small smile. "Just nod if you think you're up to it now. Or we can wait for a little longer."

Alex swallowed, trying to ignore the painful sensation in his throat. Maybe getting out would be a good thing. Not a bad thing like that nagging voice in the back of his mind was telling him. After all, they seemed determined that they weren't leaving without him. Hesitantly, Alex nodded. He doubted that waiting a few minutes was going to make him feel any better.

"You're sure?"

If Alex had been feeling up to it, he would have scowled. Instead, he settled for nodding a second time. Of course he was sure. He wouldn't have nodded in the first place if he wasn't.

"Okay. We'll start small though. Let's see if we can get you standing up. Do you think you'll be able to support your own weight? With some help, I mean."

Once again, Alex nodded. A half remembered memory told him that he had stumbled down the halls to get to this room. Though he wasn't entirely sure why he had been so determined to find the room. There was something that his mind wasn't remembering that he had thought was important. It was more than frustrating.

The man slipped away slightly, giving Alex a chance to balance his sitting on his own. He quickly found that there were some muscles in his back that were less than happy with him at the moment. Once he had his balance... that was when the real challenge started. The man did his best to help Alex to his feet without inadvertently pressing against some injury. It was a challenge.

The room started spinning dangerously once Alex was fully erect, but the man kept him from taking any stumbling steps. Instead, he just instructed Alex to take some calming breaths and close his eyes for a few moments if it helped. It did help, and a few minutes later, Alex was standing and ready for the next phase. He was in no way ready to walk on his own, nor was he steady on his feet. At times, even standing still, the man was the only thing keeping him from tumbling to the ground again.

The second person joined them at that point, taking up a careful stance on Alex's right. Not touching anything, but ready if something happened. Which Alex sincerely hoped nothing would. He didn't want to consider what would happen if he so much as put pressure on his arm. It was bad enough that it was hanging off his side. The upper arm felt like it was tugging on something, and the lower arm… was something else entirely. He had made the mistake of attempting to twitch his fingers and had paid for it with a wave of pain. There was more going on than he originally thought…

Definitely not a dream. As much as he would have liked that.

"Let's go. If we're lucky, we won't run into anyone."

Alex blinked twice, realizing that it was rather strange that there wasn't anyone else around. There should have been, if they were prisoners… The man's grip around his midsection urged Alex to get moving, and he did so with the slowest of stumbling steps. Something told him that it was going to be a very long walk…

* * *

><p>It had to be a miracle. There was no other way it could have happened. On their way out of the compound, they had only met with one guard. Acting on pure preservation instinct, Alex had dropped the man's support, grabbed a spare gun from the guard's booth, and shot the guard. The short adrenaline rush had disappeared quickly after that, and only the presence of the two men with him, kept him from collapsing.<p>

After that, the quite one had seemed especially unnerved with his presence, but the first man had been as talkative as ever, forcing him to stay awake. The instinctive reaction had taken more out of him than he had thought it would. He sagged against his supporters even more, as the exhaustion seeped in.

Five steps into the out of doors, and Alex once again registered the fact that he had no shirt. It was anything but warm out, and there was just enough of a breeze to make him shiver, despite the fact that the blanket was still draped around his shoulders. It had fallen off for a moment, but the others had been quick to replace it. It seemed that they were putting more thought into his potential reactions than he had suspected.

"We've got a ways to go." The man said. "Just keep walking though. I think we're in the clear."

Alex wasn't quite sure where they were going, or how they even ended up at their destination. Somewhere in the midst of it all, Alex managed to zone out, effectively multitasking both walking and slipping into a nearly semi-conscious state. He was only jolted out of his peace when he stumbled.

So when he found himself being led into a cave, he was more than just a little disoriented. It was like blinking in the forest one moment, and then blinking in a room only lit by a torch the next. He was more than a little confused when the man passed him off to the silent one, making sure to steady his swaying. The silent one managed for a few moments, and Alex's exhausted brain supplied the information that the person wasn't so silent. He was just beyond comprehending speech.

He confirmed that fact when the first man came back to him and obviously said something. Alex merely blinked at him slowly. They figured it out fairly quickly that he didn't understand them. From there, things improved considerably, in Alex's opinion. A bed—really just a layer of blankets on a thin mat—in the middle of the small cove gave him a comfortable place to lie down. The man came back with another blanket, but Alex was already drifting off to sleep by then. The warmth of the blanket was just starting to get to him by the time he finally slipped out.

It seemed he had gotten the peaceful death he had hoped for.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Did you guys ****_really_**** think I'd kill Alex? Pshaw. No way. At least… ****_not yet_****.**

**Anyways… so very sorry for not getting this out sooner… but RL kind of took over, even though I'm finally home again. And after not writing anything for this story for over a month (yes, I won NaNoWriMo!), it was hard getting back into it. I dunno, but I don't feel like this chapter flowed as well as some of the earlier ones. It had potential, but I'm not happy with it. Thoughts?**

**Not quite sure when the next chapter will be out, but hopefully it'll be before/around New Years! As always, I love reading the reviews and hearing from you. The ones from the last few days have served as reminders to work on the next chapter… So keep reviewing! It does affect when the next chapter comes out, because I'm less able to ****_forget_****… hehe.**

**S.B.L.**


	37. The Lost Are Found

**Disclaimer: **_I wasn't Anthony Horowitz last year, so I'm certainly not him this year. So that means Alex Rider _still_ doesn't belong to me._

**_Previously…_**

_From there, things improved considerably, in Alex's opinion. A bed—really just a layer of blankets on a thin mat—in the middle of the small cove gave him a comfortable place to lie down. The man came back with another blanket, but Alex was already drifting off to sleep by then. The warmth of the blanket was just starting to get to him by the time he finally slipped out._

_It seemed he had gotten the peaceful death he had hoped for._

**CHAPTER 37: The Lost Are Found**

* * *

><p>It had been too long. Far too long. The leads that they had thought they got were essentially dead ends. No one had good news, and this lack of good news was rubbing on Ben. Out of everyone, he was the most invested in finding the two boys. Not only was his brother missing, but Alex as well. He also knew, better than most, just what kind of welcoming committee was waiting for Alex the moment Simurgh or SCORPIA got their hands on him.<p>

It didn't help any that the injury he had received during their attempt at escape had placed him out of the action. For far too long, in his opinion. When ho roused in the hospital, he was positive that his injury wasn't any worse than a flesh wound—his arm at least, he _might_ have had a concussion too—but Jones had barred him from participating in the search until after the doctors had cleared him for duty again. It was only after days and hours of badgering that Jones allowed him back into the loop. Two weeks after Luke and Alex disappeared.

By the time she let him participate in the search, many things had changed. In the beginning, they had no idea if Luke and Alex had been kidnapped or if they were just that good at hiding. While out of the loop, Ben had hoped that Alex's skills were keeping them out of sight, but those hopes were dashed as the analysts at MI6 sorted through hours of footage from the Simurgh compound. They had their first glimpse of Luke and Alex, as they were escorted down a half-lit hall—from nearly a week and a half earlier. The glimpse was only a few seconds long, but at least showed that at that point they were unharmed. There was no telling what had happened in the intervening time.

Everyone that had the slightest amount of skill with computers jumped on the project of sorting through the footage. The glimpses were rare, sometimes showing Alex, sometimes showing Luke, and every time they were surrounded by guards. They had no chance to escape from the island… but in the more recent footage, they hadn't come across any signs of Luke or Alex. And there was no way to tell if it meant that they were gone from the island, or if they had just stopped passing by the cameras…

If they were still on the island, they had a chance.

The number of people working the case had been narrowed down to a select few after Jones had found the second mole within the agency. Those that had been in the safe house and a handful of MI6 personnel that Jones trusted implicitly. Everything was being run with the tightest security possible, as the group planned the raid on the compound. It had to be planned out meticulously, or things were going to go seriously wrong. Ben, Braden, and Mendelssohn had all worked furiously to come up with the information needed, cross checking all the information they had on the building.

Their work hadn't seemed to do anything toward making the raid a success though. They were far too late. After hours of interrogating the few prisoners they had captured, only one, a Richard Nyman, confessed to anything useful. They had sent "the kid" off with a group of ex-SCORPIA members—nearly two weeks earlier.

Ben had stormed off, barely sticking around long enough to hear that the man was one of the Simurgh leaders. They had been too late. By two weeks. The Nyman person had had other semi-useful information, but it seemed that the move to turn Alex over to the ex-SCORPIA group had come from two other leaders, Quinn and Clarke. The move had apparently set the four leaders against each other, with two pressing for a peaceful resolution, while the other two were insisting on using Alex as a bargaining piece. They gave SCORPIA Alex, receiving support from the ex-SCORPIA members in return.

But all of this information was worthless as far as Ben was concerned. Though Nyman's information was useful to _knowing_ what had happened at the island—and Jones was working on cutting some sort of deal for him—he had no information about _where_ Luke and Alex had been taken. Just that the ex-SCORPIA members had taken them away—unconscious.

The only one who would have known where Luke and Alex were, Quinn, had been one of the ones killed in the initial confrontation. Ben wasn't entirely sure that it had been an accident either. He had seen others take drastic measures when their plans essentially blew up in their face… With Quinn dead, they had turned their sights onto Clarke—who had promptly turned up missing. Authorities had come across his body two days later in Malaysia, with a scorpion branded into his shoulder.

It meant that the raid on the island was essentially a dead end. Luke and Alex were no longer there, and the one man that had been identified out of the ex-SCORPIA group, Walker, had been last seen in an airport in Warsaw—more than three weeks earlier. There was no sign that his passport had been checked anywhere else in the past month, and the Polish intelligence agency had no sign of him still being in the country. His movements were essentially invisible.

Not for the first time, Ben wished that he had given up on the car, and disappeared with Luke and Alex into the trees. Then, he would at least be with them and know for sure that they were okay. For all they knew now, both Luke and Alex were already dead. There were those that were still heading the case that weren't holding out much hope now that it was clear that the two were in SCORPIA's clutches. Not when they had such a grudge against Alex…

Ben wasn't about to give up yet. Not yet. Giving up, meant that he had to believe that Luke was dead. And while they were both officially kidnapped, they hadn't been presumed dead yet. But the clock was quickly ticking down. There were just a handful of days before they crossed the line into being presumed dead. It wasn't until then, that the parents would be contacted. And Ben dreaded that day. They desperately needed some kind of big break…

* * *

><p>The big break came three days later, and Ben found himself down in the gadgets section of MI6 gearing up for another trek. Their target zone was a much broader area this time, so Braden, Mendelssohn, and K-Unit were there as well, taking advantage of the armory and miscellaneous tools that could come in handy. It was all or nothing this time. They had to find Luke and Alex.<p>

After the raid on the compound, they had pulled all the information they could get off of the computers, specifically those belonging to Quinn and Clarke. The group analysts that Jones had picked to help had spent all their waking hours sifting through the encrypted files, trying to find something that would point to a possible location for the ex-SCORPIA personnel. The location they had come up with wasn't in any way precise. In fact, it referred to a section that was nearly fifty square miles. The only reason it seemed remotely likely, was that there were multiple messages referring to the county of _Troms_ in Norway.

Ben had been in the room when Jones consulted with the Norwegian agency, and they had admitted to losing contact with a pair of agents in the same region. They hadn't been concerned, because contact in the area was flaky at best, and long periods of silence weren't unusual. The watch on the area was routine, and hadn't brought any unusual reports in the past couple of years.

So they were starting in the area where the agents had gone missing.

"These earpieces are on a closed loop. No matter where you are, you'll be able to reach the backup team, and no one else can tap onto the signal." The assistant helping them handed out earpieces that fit snuggly into the ear. "NSM will have a medical team standing by in Finnsnes, if they're needed. Your starting point should be about fifty kilometers from there, and as long as you don't get further away than a hundred kilometers, anyone at the receiving transmitter can communicate with you."

Ben surveyed the small earpiece for a moment, before putting it on. There was a slight buzz and the assistant adjusted the individual pieces, and then deactivated them. They didn't need them just yet.

The assistant pulled out a tray that held a set of guns. Seven were nearly identical, but the eighth was different from the others. "Standard issue, with your own personal preferences taking into account. Smithers saw the making of these personally. Tracker chip embedded in the bottom, so even if you run out of bullets but find a way to slip it into something, we can follow it from here." He handed out the guns to each of them, and then picked up the last gun almost reverently. "Be careful with this one. This is a handmade Smithers special. There are three cartridges of sedatives already loaded into it, but it can take regular bullets as well. The sedative will keep a person out for three hours, and relatively calm for another two after that. Smithers specifically said that it was approved for _'AR'_."

It took Ben a moment, but he nodded his understanding. He wasn't entirely sure why Smithers thought they might need a gun that could shoot sedatives, or why he had put extra effort into making it something they could use on Alex, but at least it was another person that hadn't given up. Luke and Alex still had hope. They weren't dead until their bodies were found.

"And of course, there are the standard coin bombs, bug detectors, heat sensors, and tracking chips." The assistant waved his hand toward a small pile of electronics. "Moisten the surface of the coin and stick it to whatever surface you want blown—you'll have ten seconds to get away before it goes off."

Sebastian looked at the coin he was handed suspiciously. "What if it gets wet while we're out? If it rains? I don't want it blowing _me_ up…"

"It won't. Requires saliva. Certain electrolytes will erode the covering and start the reaction. Doesn't take very long."

Ben almost snorted at Sebastian's expression. "Get used to it. They come up with some very interesting stuff down here."

The assistant beamed proudly. "That's the strangest for your gadgets. Bug detectors are standard issue, once again. The tracking chips are practically unnoticeable and you can just stick or throw them on a person or item. The heat sensor has a radius of one hundred meters. It'll go through stone too, so if there's anything hiding in a cave, you'll find that too. Just make sure to count the heat signatures of your party, and remember that the smaller pinpoints are animals." He sent one last glance around the room. "I think that's everything. The bulletproof camouflage is upstairs with the rest of your kit."

Ben nodded once, picking up his share of the gadgets, and made his way out of the room. They were ready for almost any type of situation. The hardest part would probably be getting into whatever building Luke and Alex were being kept in…

He wasn't giving up. They still had time.

* * *

><p><em>"Having a bit of trouble?" The stranger came up behind him, and Ben could just feel the unease of the situation.<em>

_He laughed awkwardly, trying to brush off the tension. "Yeah, blew a tire about a quarter mile back." He ran a dirty hand through his hair, glad that he had thought to roll down his sleeve. It wouldn't do for someone to see the injury, especially if they were hostile. "And it's being rather stubborn."_

_Out of the corner of his eye, Ben could see the person make a strange movement. _A hand signal_... perhaps? The person took a couple of steps closer. "Need a hand?"_

_"No… I think I've almost got it." He glanced back and up at the man, before changing his mind. If he kept the man close by, then they wouldn't go looking for Alex. He knew it was _them_. "On second thought, do you think you could hold the torch for me?"_

_His unease skyrocketed, as the man crouched down next to Ben, and took hold of the torch. "Have you thought about calling a tow? You look rather under equipped to fix this."_

_Ben couldn't agree more, but wasn't about to give an opening to the man. He could volunteer to call a tow, and instead have it show up—with _friends_. "I'd rather not, but we'll see what happens."_

_"Good."_

_"Wha—?" The torch was quickly replaced with a gun, and Ben found himself staring down the barrel. Obviously he said _something_ wrong… and they were definitely on to him. A glance over his shoulder showed a second person with a gun. Definitely in trouble._

_"Stand up slowly, with your hands above your head."_

_Ben gave them both a long look, before slowly complying. He had to play the part of unnerved commoner. Not too hard, since it was the second gun of the night he was staring down. He hoped that Alex took that as a good enough signal to get away. He needed to stall them, to give Alex and Luke a chance._

_"Where is he? Where is Pierre?" The first man demanded, the gun not wavering from its target of Ben's chest. Ben almost sighed in relief. That meant that they hadn't put together Pierre and Rider yet. Maybe there was still a chance. "We know you've been helping him, so where did you send him off to?"_

_"What? I don't…" He resisted the urge to glance toward the woods, to make sure that Alex and Luke weren't visible. They would know better, and that would only serve to give them away… "Who's Pierre?"_

_His heart nearly jumped to his throat when the man fired. It was a warning shot, and hit the dirt beside the road. "I'm not here to play games. Where is Pierre and why are you protecting him?"_

_Ben blinked, putting on a terrified civilian face. They didn't know why Alex was being protected…? "I don't know what you're talking about. Just… just let me go. I don't want anything to do with… with _you_. Let… let me fix my tire, and I'll gladly forget all of this…"_

_The man just laughed and shot again, narrowly missing Ben. The man wasn't truly amused. "Where. Is. Pierre?"_

_Ben swallowed. They needed more time, but he doubted he could stall much longer. "Just let me… fix my tire. I don't want any trouble here."_

_The second man glared at him, before jerking his head toward the woods. "Probably took off. Get rid of this one and we can track him down."_

_The first man nodded slightly, shot at Ben again—catching him in the arm—and slammed him against the car. "The only reason you're staying alive is because Simurgh seems to think that you're a good bargaining piece. At least we don't have to drag you around though—"_

"Ben." A hand shaking his shoulder brought him out of the doze he had fallen into. Blake caught the automatic punch in his direction, and grinned down at Ben. "We're landing in a few minutes."

Ben ran a hand across his face. He could definitely sympathize with Alex's nightmares. At least, in a way. Survivor's guilt. He had gotten off with nothing more than a couple of bullets in his arm—superficial injuries. Nothing that a couple of stitches and a temporary sling couldn't fix. Luke and Alex though… they were both going to be messed up.

_If they're alive…_

He shoved the thought out of his mind. He wasn't going to contemplate the possibilities.

The memory had been a recurring nightmare of sorts. Worrying about Luke and Alex had taken priority over the past few weeks, but the memory always popped up at the worst of times. They had two days to find Luke and Alex before they were both presumed dead. Ben had no wish to explain things to his parents. It was not the way he had wanted them learning about his work with MI6. He didn't want to have to explain about Alex either.

"Same memory?" Blake asked.

Ben blinked twice, before nodding slowly. He had explained it to Blake, had thought through all the possible ramifications of saying something differently or doing something differently, and they had always come up with the conclusion that there was nothing he could have done. Hearing it from someone else had helped some in the guilt area.

"Don't dwell on it. We're going to find them." He sent a sly grin in Ben's direction. "Micah says he's got a feeling."

Dmitri leaned up from the seat behind them, and flicked Blake on the back of the head. "Sebastian says we're on mission now. Codenames only. Braden and Mendelssohn excluded, of course."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Of course Penguin."

"Shut it."

* * *

><p>They had spread out into a fan formation to cover the most amount of ground as possible. Their base was about forty miles east of Finnsnes, and the NSM agent they had spoken to had outlined the area as the most likely target. It hadn't been patrolled in over a year, and was close to where the agents had gone missing. It was the best area to start.<p>

So they were going through the brush, trying to be as silent as possible. It worked surprisingly well, and Ben was able to keep his eyes fixed on the heat sensor. So far, the only things that had shown up were the small animals around them—the heat signatures were too small to be humans—but Ben still had hope. They had been out for nearly two hours, carefully combing the area. Though the device was supposedly infallible, they couldn't help but double check.

Aside from the occasional check-ins from Braden and Micah—or Eagle, as he was going by at the moment—who were on the edges of the formation, there was radio silence. While they all doubted that they would find anything just in the woods, there was always hope that they would come across some sort of patrol. It would be something that could lead them to the ex-SCORPIA members' hiding place.

It was as they were nearing the third hour of searching, that they finally came across something. Dmitri—Penguin—called in a trip wire in his section, and that he had followed it to a control box. It was entirely out of place, and looked rather new. They regrouped around Penguin's position, keeping a careful eye out for more wires. There weren't any, but Ben wasn't about to let his guard down. The trip wire meant that they were heading in the right direction. Unfortunately, it didn't bode well for the missing NSM agents.

"There's another up here." Wolf said, speaking through the earpiece. He had gone ahead, over the knoll and out of sight, seeming to follow a hunch. "The box it's connected to is up a tree. I think these are just warning wires. They're not going to trigger anything, except let them know that we're coming."

Ben shared a glance with Braden. It was their best lead so far. "Spread out and see if you can find another. Watch your step, and let us know if you trigger any. We might be able to figure out a pattern and direction. Keep your eyes open for cameras too. They're SCORPIA, so they'll have current protections." _I think_… He wasn't entirely sure what all SCORPIA had, now that they were disbanded. They had been receiving funds from Simurgh though, and there was no telling what kind of technology they had gained from that partnership.

For all they knew, they could be walking into the middle of an elaborate trap.

It took another half hour of searching, and five more trip wires before they found what they were looking for. In some ways, Ben was amazed that there wasn't any sort of fence around the building, but then, maybe the trip wires were enough to alert them to any unwanted visitors. Or so they thought.

The moment the building came into view, they split into groups. From the lack of guards, Ben wasn't entirely sure that the building was still occupied. They weren't close enough for the heat sensor to pick up any signals further inside the building than just the outer section, so there was the chance that everyone was further inside…

The plan was simple—get in and get out. Though they had no blueprints for the building, Ben didn't think that the place would be too complex. They would figure it out as they went. The first split in the hall they reached, the groups would separate. They would always be within distance of the earpieces, after all.

It wasn't an exactly quick process. The two groups split up within the first few minutes, and were soon checking rooms—breaking doors when necessary—and hoping for some sign that people were in the place. A couple of the rooms that Ben found, had bunks, but it was clear that whoever had been there had cleared out. Only the sign of life Ben found was the dusting of trash in the corner. Even then, there was no telling how recent it was. It could have been hours or months.

_"We've found some computers here."_ Braden's voice came across the earpiece, startling Ben from his musing. _"We've got the stuff to get the information off. Should we split up, and have the other two keep searching?"_

_"Snake and I can keep looking while the other two get the information off."_ Mendelssohn offered.

Ben nodded once. "That's probably the best. Don't go too far though. I want you meeting up again. Penguin, how long will it take to get the data off the computer?"

_"Ten minutes, max. We've got some gadgets that will help speed the process up."_

"Good. Be careful, and keep your eyes open. I don't like how silent this place is." He motioned to Eagle and Wolf, moving out of the room and down the hall again. There had to be something. Something that would tell them just how long the place had been deserted. Since it was in the right area, the compound had to have something to do with the missing agents.

Wolf broke down the last door on the hall, and they crept inside. The stench was the first thing that got to them, and then Ben noticed the body. It had most likely been left where it was killed, because the blood on the floor around it seemed to have come from the body. Wolf got just close enough to get a good look at the face and toss a tracking chip on the body, before following the others back into the hall.

"Found one of their missing NSM agents. Eirik Knutsen." He closed to door behind him, effectively trapping some of the stench inside. "He's been dead for three days, at least. Someone was here then."

Ben nodded slowly, not truly hearing the others responses. In some ways, he had been relieved that it wasn't Luke or Alex that they had found. But the fact that they had found a body in the first place meant that someone wasn't above killing. It pointed toward SCORPIA—and it seemed that SCORPIA had left the place already.

They couldn't be too late again…

Eagle nudged Ben, motioning down the hall. There were still more places to look. There was still a chance that they would find something.

* * *

><p>An hour later, and they had found three more bodies—this time, ones that didn't seem to be prisoners. The last one had still been warm. There had been more than one room with blood spattered around, as well as more cells with rags in the corners. There was no sign of the other missing agent, or any clue as to where everyone had disappeared to.<p>

It almost made Ben wonder if they had tripped some wire, and everyone had scrambled to leave before they showed up. If that was the case… there was no telling if they would ever catch up with Walker and his crew again.

They had left tracking chips on each body they found, in case someone else came through to dispose of the bodies. MI6 would be tracking them, and would know the moment someone moved them. After all, NSM was definitely going to want to get their hands on the evidence—and body of their agent.

So they left the building behind and set back out into the trees hoping to find something more promising. Though in all honesty, Ben wasn't holding out much hope anymore. They had found the building, and it was deserted. They had found the body of one of the NSM agents—and the other was likely wherever Walker had taken them off to. The chance of finding something in the woods still, was almost zilch. Just from glancing at the others, Ben knew that they were losing hope as well. There was no reason for them to still hope to find something. There wouldn't be anything left to find. The building had been both informative and completely unhelpful. People had been there, possibly only hours before, but they were too late. The only thing left were the cooling and decaying bodies.

Luke and Alex were gone… again.

They picked up their fan formation, without saying a word. They still kept an eye out for the trip wires, but Eagle managed to weave a path through that avoided all of them. It seemed that SCORPIA wasn't infallible. Too bad it was too late…

_"Fox! I've got something."_ Penguin's excited voice came across the earpiece loud and clear. _"Three more heat signatures. Just off the edge of the sensor, but they're straight ahead and to the left of me."_

"Stay where you are. We'll come to you." Ben had handed off the heat sensor to Penguin once they had gone back outside. He hadn't wanted to watch the screen in vain any longer.

Maybe, just maybe, they were finally going to get the break they needed.

It only took a few moments for everyone to regroup around Penguin's position, and Ben had been there the longest, staring at the heat signatures. The signatures had only moved minutely and it seemed that they were staying in place.

"It's coming from over there." Braden pointed in the general direction, and Ben could see the start of the looming rock formation.

"A cave?" He asked.

"Maybe."

"Let's get closer. If they're in a cave, we might be able to spook someone into making an appearance. I would hate to go up against a bunch of innocent civilians—the NSM would probably have our heads."

"PR nightmare…"

Ben let a grim smile cross his face, before nodding. "That it would be. Watch your footsteps for now. We'll alert them on _our_ signal." He took the heat sensor back from Penguin, and started out in the right direction. After making a few small corrections in the direction he was going, he was able to come up on the cave without making any sort of noise. The others followed behind him, filing into places that were protected from sight.

It was clear now that the heat signatures were coming from inside the cave. Ben searched the ground for a suitable noise making object, and came across a good sized stone. Not exactly what he had been hoping for, but it would do. He hefted it in the proper direction, and was rewarded with a sharp crack as it hit the opposing rock.

Now to wait.

Of course, it was always possible that they wouldn't fall for the bait. Then Plan B would have to take effect, which was essentially just storming the cave. Ben really didn't want to have to do that… there was no telling what could happen then.

After a moment though, two of the heat signatures moved. The two came together for a moment, before one went back to the stationary heat signature, and the other started coming toward the front of the cave. It took a few more moments before anything was visible at the front of the cave, and then it was nothing more than the slight shadow of a person.

The tip of a gun peeked out for a second, before the person followed through. Looking rather worse for the wear, Ben was surprised that he was recognizable from the picture the NSM had provided them. He had no doubt that the man with the gun was the other missing NSM agent.

Ben made an abrupt movement to the others, motioning them to stay in place, before stepping out from his hiding place. The man's gun immediately trained on Ben, but wavered for a second. Ben gave him a shallow nod. "Leif Raske. Oscar three tango whiskey. Vilhjalmsson sends his greetings." The NSM agent at Finnsnes had drilled him on the English safe codes used for the two agents. There were two possible answers…

"Zulu delta five sierra. Curse the man to hell." The gun dropped immediately, and an expression of relief crossed the man's face. "Thank goodness someone heard the signal. I fear you won't be quick enough though. You have backup, correct?"

Ben tilted his head slightly, before waving the others into sight. "We have backup, but we didn't get a signal. We've been searching the forest since early this morning. Haven't heard a thing."

"Searching?" The man blinked twice, before waving it aside. "No, it doesn't matter. He needs medical attention. I can't get him to drink any more water. He refuses anything we bring to him."

Snake stepped up. "There's a medical team in Finnsnes that we can send for." Ben heard the confirmation of the orders in his earpiece. The team was already on their way. "They'll be here in twenty minutes. I can see what I can do in the meantime."

The man nodded. "Anything is better than what I have. He's had the fever for more than three days already." He turned to lead the way into the cave, and Wolf and Penguin pulled out two heavy duty torches. "I've done everything I can, but… he's been delirious. Doesn't even recognize his friend anymore."

They were well within the cave, when they came across the other two members of the party. At first, it wasn't clear who they were, but a black shape hurtling across the empty space soon answered that.

"Ben! You're here. I knew it. I told him you would come. I told him… but… but he wouldn't listen to me. He… he gave up." There was a choked sound, and Ben simply tightened his hold. He felt like he had swallowed his tongue. He had all but given up, himself. But here was Luke. Safe and, mostly, sound. "I tried… I'm sorry… sorry…"

"Shh… we're here now. Things are going to be okay." He pulled Luke to the side, dread nearly swallowing him as he caught sight of the still form on the blankets. Snake was already in his element, checking over the figure. A nod in his direction brushed away some of the fear that they were already too late for Alex. "They'll do what they can for him. A medical team will be here soon, and then we can get all of you to a hospital."

Luke nodded shakily. "I thought… I thought they were going to kill him. I… I think they tried." He shuddered slightly, before looking up at Ben. "They wanted him dead. Why?"

Ben shook his head. "Not now. Later, okay?" He really didn't want to get into the details. Not ever. But he suspected that there was no choice. Luke had seen too much. There was no telling how much Jones would approve Luke to hear though. "We'll have a long talk about everything once I'm sure you're okay. Once I'm sure you're _both_ okay."

"'Kay…" Luke swallowed twice and shuddered slightly. "Where are we?"

"Norway."

"Oh. He was right, then."

"Who?"

"Leif. He didn't say how he knew though…"

Ben nodded slightly. "He's a Norwegian agent. He and his partner were out here on patrol. They turned up missing only a few days ago. We found his partner in the compound."

"Alive?"

"No."

"Oh…" Luke shuddered again, before pulling away from Ben and taking a seat against the wall of the cave. Ben pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around Luke. He wasn't dressed for the cool weather of northern Norway. "You should go check on Alec. He wasn't responding to either of us earlier."

Ben swallowed and nodded slightly. "I will. First though, I need to know what you can tell me of his injuries. It'll help Snake—Blake."

Luke gave him a slightly strange look, before shrugging. "He's got bruises and cuts all over. The first week or so he was coherent for the most part—so I was able to get a few answers out of him. They cut up his arms a lot. Shallow cuts at first, but they gradually got deeper. One day he came back with a broken wrist… then they moved him to a different cell. I didn't see him for a day, but he took a turn for the worse. He hasn't acknowledged me since then. His wrist was worse, he had a deep knife wound in his shoulder, and he was delirious. Leif had patched him up as best as he could, but… it was already infected. I… I couldn't do anything."

Ben could hear the desperation in Luke's voice. He knew just how bad it was looking for Alex at the moment.

"They took him away this morning—he had seemed a little bit better, but wasn't doing much more than staring at the ceiling. The screams that came after that though…" He shuddered, and not from the cold, but from a memory. "I was sure they were killing him. There were a couple of times that I thought they had succeeded… but it kept starting up again. It wasn't until after two hours that it was silent again. He stumbled back to the cell three hours after that. He—" Luke broke off, shaking his head.

"There was a seizure almost as soon as he got there." Leif said, stepping up beside them. He raised an eyebrow at Ben's shocked breath. "I take it that seizures aren't unheard of with him?"

Ben shook his head.

"Hmm… Well, it was in and out after that for him. Aside from protesting about us staying, he hasn't said a word. He killed a guard on the way out… but seemed to shut down after that." Leif cast a wary glance in Alex's direction. "He recognized me up until the seizure. He knew exactly what he was doing when he came back to the cell. After that… he was confused by our presence."

Ben swallowed. "That sounds about right. He… he's had trouble with his memory before, after a seizure. Not quite that bad, but… I can see it happening."

Leif nodded slowly, glancing between Ben and Luke, before back over at Alex. "You are all brothers?"

"We are, but…" He nodded toward Alex. "We've all been living together. Protective custody." No matter that they knew Leif was friendly, that didn't mean he was at liberty to tell everything. Bits and pieces were likely to come out eventually. "They've been after him for months."

"Him?" There was no doubting the surprise in the voice. It wasn't exactly common for a teenager to be targeted by such obvious terrorists.

"It's complicated." He sent a sly glance toward Luke. "And classified."

It brought a hint of a smile to Leif's face. "Ah yes. Of course."

Snake came over at that moment, a pensive look on his face. "He's barely responding to me. He's just staring and shivering. The medical team will be here in five minutes though… and they'll have a helicopter."

Ben let out a sigh of relief. He had taken out his earpiece once he started talking to Luke. He didn't want to have to compete with the chatter from everyone else. "You know he had a seizure?"

"Yes, and I'm not surprised either. How he made it so long though…"

"They were giving him the medicine." Luke said. "Until the last couple days though. They didn't touch him for two days, so he didn't have it then. I don't know what they did today…"

"Probably nothing good." Snake sighed and sent Luke a look. "I should check you over. Ben… do you want to go over and see if you can get any reaction from him? I can't do much more than what's already done."

Ben patted Luke's shoulder lightly, before crossing the room to where Alex was lying. His right arm was wrapped in bandages, from wrist to shoulder. A makeshift splint kept his wrist in a stable position, but that didn't seem to matter to Alex. His eyes were heavily lidded, and Ben was surprised that he hadn't fallen asleep—or unconscious—yet.

"Hey Alex." He crouched down next to Alex, and was slightly surprised to be rewarded with a series of blinks. "You're not feeling too good, I take it. That's okay though. Sna—Blake's taking good care of you. And the medical team will be here soon. They'll have some medicine for you, painkillers, and maybe—" He brushed a hand over Alex's forehead. "Maybe something to bring down that fever. You'll be feeling better in no time."

Alex's eyes drifted shut, and for a few moments, Ben thought he might have finally fallen asleep. Then he noticed the tears on Alex's eyelashes. They hadn't been present earlier, not when he had been staring at nothing. Something had changed.

Ben reached out and brushed the unruly hair off Alex's face. The blond roots were starting to show, though there was blood streaked throughout it. Mats here and there made the hair stick together, contributing to the wild look. "It's okay, Alex. You're going to be okay."

A tear escaped the teen's eyes, and a raspy sigh followed. His lips moved slightly, and it took a while before Ben realized that he was trying to say something. Repeating some word over and over again. _Sorry… sorry… sorry…_

"Hey, it's okay, Alex. There's nothing for you to be sorry for." He brushed a hand over Alex's forehead, feeling the heat radiating off it. Perhaps he was delirious again, and seeing things. If the delusions were anything like his nightmares were, Ben had no doubt that it was pretty torturous. "Everyone's safe and sound." He cast a glance over at Luke and Snake. "Luke's even fighting off Blake's attempt at being a thorough medic. He doesn't seem to have anything worse than a bruise. You on the other hand… Kid, you've got to keep fighting. If not for yourself, then for me, because if you give up, things are going to turn into hell here. Luke won't forgive himself—hell, I probably won't either. So you've got to be around to keep us from doing something stupid, okay?"

The near whispering stopped, and bleary unfocused eyes opened to look at Ben. It was clear that he wasn't actually looking at Ben—it seemed like he was looking _beyond _—but it was a step in the right direction. There was something about it that just seemed off and not just because it was clear he wasn't entirely there.

Alex blinked slowly, but his gaze through Ben didn't waver. "'uke... hur…ths…" The sound was barely loud enough for Ben to hear, and was extremely hoarse. Something told Ben that Alex talking now wasn't a good idea, but he didn't know how else they were going to figure out what was fueling his delusions. "'M sorry… he'th dea…d…"

"It's okay Alex. You're safe here." He grabbed a hold of Alex's free hand, and attempted to rub a little bit of warmth back into it. He was nearly freezing. "You'll start feeling a lot better very soon."

He didn't seem to hear any of it. "My fa'lt… Sow…ry… Luke…" He fell silent after that, though Ben could tell that he was still awake. His eyes flicked back and forth for a moment, watching something that only he could see. There was no telling what was going on with him.

Not being entirely sure what he was watching or waiting for, when something finally happened, Ben didn't recognize it for what it was right away. He had never been present for the first few seconds, after all. Alex had jerked his hand away, and at first, Ben thought it was a step in the right direction.

But it wasn't. It was a step back. A big step back.

Ben's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. It was exactly what Alex didn't need. He fumbled for his voice, waving frantically. "Blake!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that's where the chapter ends. Had to get off another cliffhanger, didn't I? *grins* Don't worry; I won't make you wait a month before the next chapter. Only a couple of weeks… kidding. The next chapter should be out within a few days (week, at the maximum), depending on my schedule. I'm trying to balance writing, with finding a job, and planning for a (potential) trip to Nicaragua in the summer. Fun, fun.**

**Also, if you notice any plot threads that I haven't tied up from earlier chapters (like from before they were in captivity) could you tell me? I think I've gotten all of them, but I'm not entirely sure… Don't worry, the reasons behind Alex's miraculous survival in the past couple of chapters will be explained as well.**

**It looks like there are only two chapters left, so don't forget to review on the way out! The reviews are much appreciated.**

**Oh, yes. And before I forget… HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Sorry to those still left behind in 2012, I'm sure you'll catch up eventually ;)**

**S.B.L.**

**P.S. sorry if something comes across wrong. I had to update from my iPod... I'll look over it again later, but if you notice anything majorly wrong let me know.**


	38. Safe and Sound

**Disclaimer:**_ Insert witty disclaimer here… It's not mine. Though I wish._

**_Previously…_**

_Not being entirely sure what he was watching or waiting for, when something finally happened, Ben didn't recognize it for what it was right away. He had never been present for the first few seconds, after all. Alex had jerked his hand away, and at first, Ben thought it was a step in the right direction._

_But it wasn't. It was a step back. A big step back._

_Ben's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. It was exactly what Alex didn't need. He fumbled for his voice, waving frantically. "Blake!"_

**CHAPTER 38: Safe and Sound**

* * *

><p>Ben paced up and down the hallway. He had been at it for over an hour. It didn't matter that it was the second such hallway that he had paced in the last seven hours. The people weren't telling him anything, and Blake had disappeared into the frenzy hours earlier. At the <em>first<em> hospital.

The seizure had set Alex back considerably. It had been a good thing that the medical team had arrived only minutes after it started. Otherwise… there was no knowing how long the seizure would have lasted. As it was, they had had trouble getting him to respond to the medications and stop seizing.

No one mentioned the number of cuts that had reopened after the seizure, or the fact that the splint hadn't been able to hold up to movements like that. It had definitely been a turn for the worse. It was only by a hairsbreadth that Alex had avoided being intubated in the helicopter. It wasn't a simple procedure, much less in a flying vehicle. The stress on his body had been too much, and he had never regained consciousness…

That was also the turning point for Luke. The stress of the situation seemed to have caught up with him by the time they arrived at the hospital, and had been toeing the line to unconsciousness. Ben had been torn as to who he should stay with, when the groups of nurses and doctors at the hospital converged on the patients coming from the helicopter. That was solved for him, when Luke all but ordered him to stay with Alex—or Alec, as he was still known. They were going to have to correct that eventually.

The doctors and nurses hadn't been too keen on Ben following them with Alex. Blake had followed as well, being the most familiar with Alex's medical history—specifically what medicines could and could not be used. They weren't quite successful at getting Ben out of the room before Alex took a turn for the worse. They pushed him out just moments after his breathing stopped and hadn't allowed him back in.

That had led to two hours of pacing in the small waiting room that Ben had eventually been escorted to. The others were already there, waiting for news on any of the three that had been brought in, and no one quite had it in them to stop Ben's pacing. For a while, Dmitri had joined the pacing, before Sebastian had pulled him down into a chair. No one had touched Ben.

The end of those two hours had been marked by news on Luke and Leif. Out of the three, Leif was the best off, mainly because he had spent so little time in the compound. Bruises and a few cuts, but nothing that would keep him in the hospital for more than a day. Luke's injuries, on the other hand, were rather hidden. A severe concussion had been hiding under the surface, as well as a bad case of dehydration and exhaustion. It seemed that he had used the small amount of water they had to keep Alex's injuries as clean as possible and to get Alex to drink water—in the process, forgetting about himself. Even with all that, it wasn't going to be a long hospital stay for him. Only a few days.

Around the three and a half hour mark, Blake had reappeared with news that Alex was stable enough for transport back to London—but he certainly wasn't any better. Not by a long shot. But MI6 wanted him back under their protection. There was no telling what could happen at an unsecured hospital in Norway. At St. Dominic's they would at least be able to keep the doctor's knowledge under the OSA.

It had been a tense flight back. Luke had been fairly well out of it, but that was mostly due to the painkiller and mild sedative in his system. It didn't have much to do with his physical condition. Alex was a completely different story. From the glimpse of Alex that Ben had gotten, he wasn't doing well. Even now, Ben all too vividly remembered the number of tubes and monitors that had surrounded Alex, and the way that he hadn't even twitched slightly when someone brushed against him…

Ben shook himself out of his musing. They had been in St. Dominic's for what felt like hours now. Surely no news meant that nothing too horrible had happened… Unfortunately, there wasn't anyone else around for Ben to distract himself with. Only he and Blake had flown back to London with Luke and Alex. The others were staying in Norway, investigating the compound with the NSM, as well as completing an interview with Leif.

So, he only had his thoughts for company.

"Ben."

He jerked his head up, staring at Blake. He had no idea how long Blake had been standing there, and couldn't tell from the look on his face whether the news was good or bad. Even though he had just been wishing for news, he wasn't sure he was ready, should it be bad.

"Dr. Sayer wants to talk with you."

Ben swallowed, and followed Blake down the hall. They were silent, because there really wasn't anything either of them could say. The silence pressed in on Ben, and he couldn't help but wonder if there really wasn't any good news after all. If something had happened to Alex, and Blake was just holding it together for his sake…

Even though the walk wasn't very far, it felt like eternity to Ben. They passed other nurses in the hospital, and all but one ignored them completely. The one though… she cast a pitying look in Ben's direction. It really didn't help matters at all.

Dr. Sayer was waiting for them in an office. Ben vaguely recognized it from the first time they had been introduced, so many months earlier. Perhaps they were trying to break the news gently, in a place where Ben wouldn't be afraid to go to pieces…

Dr. Sayer waited until Ben had sat down before saying anything. "Alex's condition is… extremely tentative right now. It's not clear if he'll be able to pull through the night."

Ben felt like his heart had jumped into his throat. That meant that Alex was still alive. For the time being…

"They have him in surgery right now. The infected wound on his shoulder needs to be cleaned out, there's fluid building up around his lungs and heart, and they're putting in a monitor to keep track of the pressure in his brain." He fixed Ben with a steady gaze. "That's not mentioning the surgery he'll most likely need to repair his wrist, the multitude of lacerations across his body, the seizures, and the fact that we have no idea how he received the burns. If it's electrical in origin—like we suspect—then we could be fight a losing battle. We don't know what kind of internal damage he has from that, and… it's going to be touch and go for the next few days."

_If he makes it that long…_ Ben knew the hidden implications behind that statement. There was no way of knowing if Alex was going to take a turn for the worse or not. They could do everything humanly possible, and it still wouldn't be enough.

It took Ben a moment to find his voice again. "There are burns?" No one had mentioned burns while they were in Norway.

Dr. Sayer nodded. "In a couple of places. On his arm and shoulder, close to where his knife wound is. There are fainter marks on his torso and lower back, but they're definitely burns. They likely didn't come across the burns in Norway, because the main worry was stabilizing him. The worst burn is just below his hairline, on the back of his neck. Thankfully, it's not so deep that we think he'll need a skin graft, but it is a possibility if it doesn't heal correctly."

Ben sucked in a sharp breath. If the burn was electrical in origin, it meant that some sort of electrical current had been applied to the base of his skull. No wonder he had had a seizure. Multiple seizures. Though Leif and Luke had only reported one seizure before getting out of the compound, it was entirely possible that something had happened during those missing hours. The only person that would know for sure was Alex, and even then, if it was a seizure, he wasn't likely to remember.

"I've looked over the reports from the hospital in Oslo, and it's not exactly reassuring. It seems that the last seizure pushed his body over the edge and into a coma. There's also the fact that he's lost a lot of blood over the past couple of weeks, and his body hasn't been able to keep up. He's at risk for kidney failure, heart arrhythmias, and more seizures." The doctor shook his head slowly. "It's not looking good at all."

Ben swallowed and nodded. "How much… what kind of chance… does he have right now?"

"If the surgery goes without complications—thirty percent chance that he'll make it through the night. Every hour after that… he'll have to make a marked improvement." He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, but there just isn't any good news. It's going to be touch and go from here on out."

* * *

><p>Ben was thoroughly exhausted by the time Blake ushered him into Luke's room. He had spent the last four and a half hours pacing the length of a private waiting room and drinking copious amounts of tea to try to offset the exhaustion that had been setting in. He had refused to do anything until he knew that Alex had, at the least, pulled through the surgery. Though it wasn't a very complicated surgery, he couldn't help but imagine the variety of ways that something could go wrong. Or that at some point it would be too much for Alex's body and he would just slip away, no matter what the doctors did to stop it.<p>

He had been allowed a short glance in on Alex once the surgery was over, but wasn't allowed in the room. His condition was so delicate that the chance of introducing outside bacteria could mean the difference between life and death for him—only those who had followed sterile precautions were allowed in. As much as Ben wanted to reassure himself that Alex was still alive, he understood the precautions.

Thankfully, the chair in Luke's room was comfortable. He cast a tired glance at his brother, sound asleep from the mixture of painkillers and sedatives. The doctors and nurses were keeping a close eye on him, making sure that nothing new popped up. They were careful at St. Dominic's… and Ben knew that both Luke and Alex couldn't have been in better hands. Besides, Blake had promised immediate notification if anything happened with Alex. He could afford a few minutes to relax…

Ben wasn't entirely sure when he fell asleep in the chair, but he roused again when a nurse came in to take Luke's vitals. He watched her work silently for a while, noting the caution she took to keep from waking Luke. She sent Ben a friendly smile once she realized that he was awake.

"How is he?" Ben asked quietly.

"Not too bad. The dehydration should go away within the next twenty four hours. I imagine we'll see him out of here in a few days."

Ben smiled slightly, and nodded his thanks. A bit of the worry he had had vanished knowing that Luke was going to be okay. There was no telling what kind of mental scarring he was going to have though… For all the teasing about a psychologist, Ben didn't wish the experience on anyone, least of all, Luke. Hopefully he would be able to reintegrate into normal life after this was all over…

The nurse left after finishing her checks, and Ben dozed for a while longer. Some small part of his brain was dreading morning, because it meant both questions from Luke and the knowledge that it was very likely that Alex hadn't made it through the night. That was what he dreaded the most. The questions from Luke—and the acknowledgement that despite everything, it just hadn't been enough.

He roused from his latest nap just a few minutes before Luke showed any signs of waking. He watched his brother, unconsciously checking him over for any signs of injury. The doctor had said that Luke had a bad concussion, but one that was likely to clear up within a matter of weeks.

Luke yawned widely, and Ben scooted his chair closer. The noise caused Luke to turn abruptly, and from his wide eyes, Ben suspected that he hadn't expected anyone else to be in the room. Luke stared at him for a moment, before relaxing back against his pillows. He still had a slightly wild-eyed look.

"Ben…?"

"Yeah."

Luke let out a rush of air, before reaching up with his free hand and scrubbing at his face. "I thought… I was alone…" They both knew that that wasn't what he had really thought, but Ben didn't mention it. Luke had thought that he was still in the compound. "Sorry… details are… fuzzy."

"It's okay." Ben reached out and grabbed onto Luke's hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment. "Happens to the best of us at times. Are you feeling okay?"

Luke shrugged slightly. "Head hurts a little, but… not as much as before." He rolled his head experimentally, but paused when he looked at the other side of the room. He blinked twice, and Ben's stomach flipped at the potential implication. "Where are we?"

"St. Dominic's, in London. We flew in yesterday afternoon… don't you remember?"

"Somewhat… blurry lights, people talking, nothing distinct. I knew we went somewhere… just not where…" He trailed off, glancing around the room. Searching for something. Or _someone_… His eyes widened slightly after a few moments, and he spun to look at Ben again. "Alec's okay, right? I mean, you wouldn't be here if he weren't. But… he wasn't breathing right when we left… so that can't be good. He's okay. He has to be. He's Alec. Been through everything. Can't give in now that we're finally out of there…"

"Luke." Ben tried to cut off the babbling, with a pleading glance.

Luke's eyes widened. "No, no, no… he can't! He got through all of that. Those bastards can't have killed him after all that. He was fighting, tooth and nail." His jaw clenched, and he started to pull the blankets aside to get out of bed. "_He_ wouldn't give up like that. He knew who those people were, and he wasn't going to give in. It's not right!"

"Luke… lie back down…" Ben pushed a protesting Luke back into the bed, and pulled the blankets up again. "Last I knew, he was still fighting. But it's not looking good for him." Ben swallowed against the lump in his throat. The kid was like a second brother for him, and he hated to think of the condition he was in. "They gave him a thirty percent chance to pull through the night… so I don't know yet. But I do know this—" He fixed Luke with his gaze. "—he's not giving up without a fight. It's not in his personality. If anyone can beat those odds, he can."

Luke stared at him, and Ben could see the tears welling in his eyes. Not good. "But… but… he _can't_." Luke's hands fisted around the blankets. "How… how do you know… he hasn't…?"

Ben bit his tongue for a moment, forcing his mind to not think in that direction. It wasn't possible. He agreed with Luke, this was _Alex_. "Blake… said he would tell me if anything happened. He hasn't come by, so… he's still fighting."

He stared at Ben for a few moments, before wiping at the tears that had stubbornly escaped. "It's… it's not _fair_. He's too stubborn to give in… Alec kept after them, no matter what…" He broke off in a choked sob, covering his face with his hands. "_It's not fair…_"

"I know…"

* * *

><p>The moment Blake stepped into the room, Ben was on high alert. Luke had slept on and off throughout the morning, alternating between sobbing quietly, then furiously wiping at the tears like they had no excuse to exist, and glaring at the ceiling. He didn't make any effort to engage Ben in a conversation, and Ben wasn't sure if this was all a sign of Luke's eventual mental status showing through or not. Both of them, though, focused on Blake when he entered the room.<p>

Ben swallowed quickly, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. "Is he…?"

Blake shook his head quickly. "There's no change since last night. They're not making any guarantees for the next twelve hours."

Ben leaned back in the chair with a sigh. No worse, but no better either. At least it meant, in some small portion, that Alex was still fighting. Even if he wasn't conscious to recognize the fact.

"Levendis wants you downstairs right now." Blake said. "Said something about visitors for Luke, and that the order came from Jones."

Ben nodded and swallowed again. Of course. Luke was technically a civilian in all of this, and in light of the care he would need over the next few months, it was no surprise that their parents had been brought into the equation. It was only luck that they hadn't already been informed… Though there wasn't much _physically_ wrong with Luke, there was no knowing what all had happened during the captivity. Even trained agents had problems bouncing back from just a few days of imprisonment—much less weeks.

He sent a shaky smile in Luke's direction. "I'll be back soon. See if you can't get some more sleep, okay?"

Luke blinked twice at him, before nodding slightly. Ben patted him on the shoulder before following Blake out the door.

"How's Luke doing?" Blake asked once they were further down the hall.

"So-so. He's pretty distraught over… Alex."

"It's not surprising." Blake gave his good shoulder a squeeze. "He saw Alex in some of his worst moments, when he was delirious from the fever and in pain from whatever they did to him. We've just got to keep hoping for the best. Alex is a fighter. He's too stubborn to give up."

Ben nodded and tried to swallow against the ever present lump in his throat. Alex was stubborn, yes, but it was entirely possible that he had given up before they had ever made it out of the compound. Leif's report that they had gone against Alex's delirious pleas was evidence toward that, but then, it could have been the pain and fever talking… there was no way of knowing for sure.

They were both quiet for the rest of the walk through the hospital. It was only as they reached a far too familiar hallway, that Ben realized where they were going. Back to the waiting room that he had spent most of the evening in waiting for news on Alex. The door was closed, meaning that it was currently occupied. Ben suspected that his parents were there, along with Levendis and whoever else the _bank_ had deemed necessary to send.

The moment the door opened and Ben stepped into the room, he found himself in the midst of a very tight hug from his mum. Though the top of her head barely cleared his shoulder, the ferocity in the gesture didn't go missed by him. He willingly hugged her back, wishing for the days when a simple hug would set everything in the world right.

"Benjamin… why didn't you tell us?" The hurt in her voice very nearly undid him right there, but he pulled himself together. He was _not_ going to break down in front of Blake and who knew who else… he was _not_.

"I couldn't mum, you know that." _Now though…_ Levendis gave him a knowing nod over his mum's shoulder, and mouthed the word '_everything_'. It seemed that they knew more than Luke did, at the moment.

"Yes… well…" She pulled back, searching Ben's face with her eyes. "I wish you could have told us before all… _this_. Luke's okay?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah… they think he'll be out in a few days."

Mr. Daniels clapped a hand on Ben's shoulder. "So this is all… true? Luke and that… French boy were kidnapped and hostages or something? Luke said you found him a job opportunity, months ago. That's not related to this, is it?"

"Um… yeah, it is. We were in a safe house by that point, and I needed someone that _Alex_ trusted to be with him while I was… out. We had been hoping that things would calm down months ago, but it didn't. Luke was just another person in the house to keep an eye on Alex, and give him someone closer to his age. They caught them both when we were fleeing the second safe house. I got shot again, and… we've been looking for them ever since."

Mr. Daniels nodded slightly. "Yes… that's what Mr. Levendis explained to us. They were in Norway, and lucky to come across someone from the security agency there."

So a slightly edited version of the truth… or maybe they had just misunderstood. Ben tilted his head in question toward Levendis.

Levendis nodded. "Full disclosure. Anything you think might help them or Luke get through this. Jones sends her personal condolences, and is monitoring Rider's progress closely."

Ben cleared his throat, before nodding toward the door. "I imagine Luke would be happy to see some familiar faces. He's exhausted though."

Mrs. Daniels gave him one more tight squeeze, before stepping away and taking her husband's hand. "I can't believe what you two have gotten up to…" She gave him a faint smile. "I'm glad that both of you are relatively unharmed though."

"Daniels." The three of them turn to face Levendis again, but Ben quickly figured out that he was who Levendis wanted. They turned their backs on the other occupants of the room for a moment. "Jones sent over the information that Walker and his crew have been detained in Finland. SUPO caught them when they were trying to leave the country in Helsinki. They're not getting free any time soon and they're being questioned for information on what they did to Alex. It might help, it might not, but at least it's something."

Ben closed his eyes for a moment, before letting out a long breath. "One less person to worry about, then."

Levendis gave him a small smile. "At this rate, he might be able to live a normal life once he's out of here."

Ben shrugged slightly, noticing the optimism the man had. Whatever the case, Ben highly doubted that Alex would be able to lead any sort of _normal life_. Either physical or psychological trauma would prevent that, in some shape or form. First things first though, he had to get over the current hurdle—living in the first place.

"Optimism, Daniels. It's the only thing we've got left."

Ben couldn't help but agree with him.

* * *

><p>The reunion of parents with son could have gone better. Ben had to fight to keep the grimace off his face at the thought of it. Luke had been awake and in another of his staring moods. At first, Ben thought that that was better than outright sobbing, but it had taken only a few moments of being around their mum before he burst into tears in her arms. <em>That<em> had been disconcerting to both Ben and his dad.

It had been a long fifteen minutes where neither Ben nor his dad was quite sure what to do. Luke had ended up crying himself back to sleep, after sobbing out his tears of frustration at the entire situation. _Alec's_ name had come up more than once… and Ben was just waiting for the inquisition that was going to come from their parents.

Sure enough, only a few minutes after they were all positive that Luke was asleep again, Mr. Daniels turned to Ben. "I thought you said he was okay… has he been like that all morning?"

"He is… sort of. And no, he hasn't been like that. I guess it's his way of dealing with the… psychological trauma. He's not going to go back to normal in a couple of days." _Especially if something happens with Alex_… "It's going to take time."

His mum stroked the hair off of Luke's forehead, before looking up at Ben. "That boy… the one with him… _Alec_? Is he here? I think it would help Luke if he saw him…" She trailed off at the pained look on Ben's face. "I-I mean… he's _okay_ right?"

Ben slowly shook his head, staring down at his hands. He had thought they knew that at least.

His mum gasped. "You mean… he's…?"

"N-no… but we don't know how long he's going to make it. He's fighting the odds right now." Ben waved his fingers in Luke's direction. "That's why he's so upset. Luke's been keeping him alive for the past few days, and now, there's not much hope. He'll be lucky to make it through the next twelve hours."

There was a sharp intake of breath. "His family must be devastated."

Ben flinched slightly, before shaking his head. "He doesn't have any." He glanced up at his mum again. "I became his legal guardian in March, but he's lived with me since after Christmas."

His mum's eyes widened. "Oh, Ben…" She got up from beside Luke, and pulled Ben into another tight hug. "And you never told us…? Listen, I'm sure they're doing everything possible. He sounds like a fighter if Luke was able to keep him going for a few days."

Ben just nodded, taking a couple of deep breaths. Everyone said that Alex was a fighter, but that could mean absolutely nothing in the long run. It was down to two choices. Either he made it through, and started to get better, or he didn't. It was as simple as that. There was no halfway. Of course, there was the possibility that he would never rouse from the coma, but then it would be as simple as turning off the life-support. He would be gone, and there would have been nothing they could have done.

Mr. Daniels cleared his throat, catching Ben's attention. "How did they get into this situation in the first place? Why was he being targeted?"

"It's complicated… and a long story that I'd really not have to tell twice—for Luke's benefit." He shrugged slightly. "Basically though, he had connections to MI6, and some terrorist groups wanted him dead—they killed his previous guardian last summer. He was relocated to California with a family there, but he ran away in August, and we thought he was killed in the bombing. I found him in December and kept his presence a secret from MI6 because he wouldn't trust me otherwise. Eventually things came to a head and MI6 knew he was alive, more terrorists were after him, and… he was in a safe house until they were kidnapped. Luke was a hostage. He… wasn't."

Ben returned to contemplating his hands, slightly surprised by how much he had given away. Alex had always hated people knowing about his past, but in this situation, knowledge of Alex's past was the only way to explain some of the things that had happened. Without lying.

"He was Luke's roommate in the hospital, wasn't he? The French boy that was Luke's age?" His dad asked.

"Yeah… but he's not French. He's sixteen and used to live in Chelsea. His uncle took him on trips around the world, and he lived in France for a while—that's how he knows the language." Ben ran a tired hand over his face. It had been less than thirty six hours since they had found Luke and Alex, and since then, he had spent more hours pacing than he had sleeping. With the lack of sleep over the past few weeks, he was quickly running himself to exhaustion.

His mum patted his shoulder. "Why don't you get a little sleep? It looks like you need it just as much as Luke does." He let himself be steered toward the small window bench that he hadn't noticed the night before. She pushed him down on it, and gave him a slightly worried kiss on the cheek. "Maybe Luke will be in a state that you can tell us all about your Alec."

Ben shook his head stubbornly, even as his eyes closed against his wishes. He really was exhausted. "His name is Alex. Alex Rider."

"Okay then. You can tell us all about Alex when you wake up."

Ben was asleep almost the moment she finished talking.

* * *

><p>"…they removed the monitor this morning. The swelling has gone down significantly, and the increased pressure isn't a concern anymore. We're starting to see an increase in brain activity when they run an EEG test as well. So long as he continues to improve at this rate, we might see him moving out of the immediate danger zone."<p>

Ben sighed heavily. It was the best news they had had since Alex had arrived in the hospital, more than two weeks earlier. His condition had stayed nearly the same for the first week in the hospital, and more than once the doctors had nearly lost him. After that though, there had been small changes. Not much, but just enough to point toward him getting better.

After septic shock and kidney failure, almost anything—including getting through _that_—was considered a step in the right direction. So, although he was nowhere near ready to wake up, the doctors were giving him a higher chance of surviving. Right around fifty percent. Still low, but better than just a week previous.

"Daniels…" Dr. Sayer roused Ben out of his musing. "Even though he's improving, it's possible that he'll reach a stage where his progress levels out. He might never regain consciousness, even _if_ he manages to get over the infection. We have no idea what kind of damage the electric current could have done to his brain."

"I… I know." He bit his lip slightly. SUPO's interrogation of Walker and his cronies had turned up some useful information. Mainly, that the anti-seizure meds had been removed just a few short days before they had escaped. It had followed the execution of the NSM agent and Alex's subsequent breakdown—what seemed to have pushed Alex's rationality over the edge. It was quite probable that in Alex's fevered state—because Luke had mentioned that the fever had already set in by the time they took Alex away—he had seen the execution of the NSM agent as an execution of Luke instead.

Alex had killed someone after that. Granted, it was the person torturing him, but Ben doubted that he had been in the right frame of mind. Walker had boasted that that was the sign that they had _broken_ Alex. If he hadn't been in the wrong country, Ben would have gladly shot the man himself…

The last helpful piece of information had come not from Walker, but from one of his cronies that had a "weak stomach" according to SUPO. Ben didn't bother to dwell on that. The section of the report that had followed that interrogation had been nearly seven pages in length. Four of those pages had described the last torturing the ex-SCORPIA members had done, before escaping the compound. They hadn't expected Alex to survive, much less attempt to escape. He had suffered through two hours of drawn out electrocution, with a taser-like device. They had regularly kept him from falling unconscious, until Walker made the call to move out. He had instructed this man to apply the taser to the base of Alex's skull for three minutes and then leave him for dead. By some small mercy, the man had stopped after only half a minute, when Alex started seizing. He had left after the three minutes were up, with Alex still seizing, and didn't touch him with the taser again.

After reading the report, Dr. Sayer had commented that the man letting up early was probably the only thing that had saved Alex. The electrical charge could have easily messed up something permanently, then and there. The fact that he had been awake for a number of hours afterward… it put a few points in his favor, but not many.

"He's able to have visitors now." Dr. Sayer said. He seemed to know exactly how long to let Ben get lost in his thoughts, before pulling him back to reality. "A friendly voice or two might nudge him toward waking up eventually. We can never know just what coma patients hear."

"He's not at risk anymore?"

"He is, but standard precautions should keep him from catching anything. Wash your hands before you go in, and don't touch any of the insert sites." The doctor placed the pile of medical forms down on his desk. "I presume you'd like to see him now? I have a few minutes, so I can explain anything you're curious about."

Not for the first time in days, Ben found himself unable to speak. He had spent the past two weeks observing through the glass window, because the risk for adding a new infection had been too high. An impenetrable space had separated him from Alex. It had been immensely hard to watch someone fighting for their life while being separated by just a sheet of glass. And even then, for the majority of the day, the curtains had been drawn.

Dr. Sayer seemed to take some sort of nonverbal cue from Ben, and stood up from his desk, before ushering Ben out of the room. He wasn't entirely sure when he had stood up… but he was quick to follow the doctor down the hall. There was no questioning the fact that he wanted to see Alex, especially if it meant there had been some sort of _improvement_.

They wound their way through the hospital, swiping through the heavy set of doors that led to the ICU. It was quickly becoming a far too familiar place for Ben. The double set of doors had an extra feeling of security though. Not just anyone could get into the ward.

After washing their hands thoroughly, Dr. Sayer led the way into Alex's room. Ben couldn't stop himself from gnawing on his lip as he surveyed Alex. The most noticeable difference was that, for the first time, Alex was back to his blond hair. It was a bit of a shock, and made his pale features even paler. Just the day before his hair had been black, though the roots were showing through. It seemed that when they removed the monitor, they took the opportunity to wash the dye out as well.

In some ways, it made him look more human. In other ways though, he looked even more fragile.

"Is it… can I…?" Ben took a deep breath, and tried to reorganize his thoughts.

Dr. Sayer gave him a genial smile. "We've found that touch can assist in stimulating a coma patient to wakefulness, along with talking. Talk to him, tell him about what's going on, tell him about Luke, let him know that there's someone nearby. Just because he's not awake doesn't mean his subconscious can't hear you."

"Ye-yeah…" He cast another glance over Alex, taking in the myriad of tubes and wires that snaked under the blankets. He was sure that he didn't want to know what half of them were needed for. All that mattered was that they were keeping Alex alive. "When… when do you think some of these tubes will be removed? They're not… not permanent until he wakes up, are they?"

"No, some will stay, obviously, but you can expect to see most disappearing over the next few days. The monitor for his heart rate will stay until he starts to show signs of waking, the tubes to drain fluid from his lungs will probably be removed in the next few days, as will the tubes from his shoulder once we're positive that the infection has cleared up."

Ben reached out a hand, almost afraid to touch Alex. The back of Alex's uninjured hand was warm to the touch, and Ben frowned slightly. "He still has a fever?"

"Yes, but greatly reduced. We've kept it down, and it has been coming done on its own. It should go away once the last of the antibiotics have run their course."

"How long will that be?"

"A few days, perhaps. It depends on if the infection is gone or not." Dr. Sayer smiled, and nodded toward Alex. "He really has made leaps and bounds over the last few days."

Ben couldn't help the hint of a smile that crossed his face. Perhaps the leaps and bounds would be enough to bring him back into the realm of the living. His gaze was drawn toward Alex's wrist, the broken one. "What about his wrist? Didn't you say something about surgery at one point?" It was a vague memory, from when they first brought Alex in.

"It's casted for now, but it's very likely that he'll need surgery on it to regain full function. The general thought is that he needs to get over the infection before we start introducing other factors into his recovery." Dr. Sayer glanced down at his watch, before studying the clipboard attached to the end of the bed. "I need to go now, but a nurse will be by to check on Alex in about fifteen minutes. If anything seems off, don't be afraid to alert a nurse. He's still not in the clear."

Ben nodded, and watched the doctor leave. After staring at Alex for a moment longer, Ben hooked his ankle around a chair by the bed, and pulled it closer. He didn't once let go of his grip on Alex's uninjured arm. In some ways, the contact was Ben's way of convincing himself that he wasn't in the midst of some dream. Although he would have liked it to _all_ have been a dream, at least now he knew that there was some sort of progress in the right direction.

The room was silent for a long while, before Ben sighed. "So… Dr. Sayer said to talk to you… thought it might convince you to rouse yourself." Ben chuckled lightly to himself, trying to brush off the absurd feeling of talking aloud to himself. There really was an audience… that audience just didn't realize what they were listening to. "I guess… well… I could talk about Luke. I think you'd be happy to know that he's okay. I mean, compared to you… he got off with some bruises and whatnot…"

Ben shrugged slightly. He wasn't exactly sure how to explain the _severe_ concussion to a comatose Alex… "He's staying with our mum right now. _The bank_ helped her find a flat just a couple of blocks away… so she's managing to keep us both from doing anything stupid. Like spending every waking hour here at the hospital and running ourselves dead in the process." He couldn't keep himself from rolling his eyes, knowing that Alex wouldn't see the gesture. "It's not like that's going to help you any… But back to Luke…"

It wasn't exactly easy to come up with nonsensical information to fill the blank spaces in with. He was used to the two way flow of conversation, even if it was with the barest hint of eye contact added in. A brief glance over Alex confirmed the notion that there wasn't even a flicker of activity coming from him.

How many times had such an occurrence happened in his short life…? More than once, if the medical reports were anything to go by, but never for such an extended period of time.

Ben blinked rapidly, catching onto another thread of conversation he could follow. "Luke knows everything now. About you, that is. There were too many unexplained occurrences during your… captivity… and I think the truth helped him some. He has his own shrink now, goes to see them every other day, right now. Mum thinks that'll stop in a couple of weeks. He's going back to university, you know. He still has more than a month before classes start, and he thinks he'll be ready. Don't know if he'll move back in with his friends or not though."

Especially not with the nightmares he had had during the past week. It was in no way, anything to contend with Alex's nightmares, but enough that he had woken up inconsolable. It had taken Ben and his mum half an hour to convince Luke that he wasn't still trapped within the compound. No, with nightmares like that, it wasn't something he would want to subject his friends to. They wouldn't understand.

At least he was working through the nightmares with his psychologist though…

"But that's a hurdle to be jumped when we get there. I think Mum's enjoying _mothering_ over him for the time being as well. Dad had to go back to Liverpool, but Mum just pushed the work in the shop over onto our cousin. Poor guy, he's not going to know what hit him when the tourists come." Ben chuckled humorlessly. "I'll have to take you there sometime—when it's not vacation season. It's different… but it's nice… Don't even get me started on Mum's cooking though. I think I've been spoiled the last few weeks. Trust me, if you like what I made, you'll be in heaven just eating Mum's cooking…"

* * *

><p>It was a range of ups and downs for the rest of the week. Ben wanted nothing more than to wake up from the nightmare, but in some ways, he was afraid that reality would be worse. So he stuck with it. Luke progressively got better and better, though he was still falling short of the usual enthusiasm he used to have for life. Not much surprise there, when his companion in captivity was still unconscious.<p>

Like Dr. Sayer had predicted, the leaps and bounds overnight, had pulled Alex all the way to fighting off the infection and removing the tubes that drained the fluid from his chest. But it hadn't brought him any further. He hadn't made any move toward waking up, and even though Dr. Sayer didn't say anything outright, Ben knew that the lengthening period of unconsciousness was affecting Alex's chances. Every hour he spent unconscious added to the likelihood that permanent damage would affect Alex _if_ he woke up.

The only true good news from the week was that Luke was improving considerably. His nightmares had decreased significantly, to the point that it only took their mum a few minutes to calm Luke back to sleep. Even the last night, Ben hadn't known that Luke had had a nightmare until their mum had explained in the morning. Another change in the week was that Blake had rejoined his unit abroad. For the time being, it seemed that they were working for MI6—though Ben didn't know anything more than that…

It was nearing noon by the time Ben reached the hospital again. For the past few days, he had put in a couple of hours at _the bank_. All in the hopes of rounding up the last of those responsible for the SIMURGH and SCORPIA attacks. It made it so he felt like he was actually accomplishing something while Alex was… languishing.

It had been a process of days before anyone had convinced Ben that he should take a break from his vigil at the hospital. In the end, it had been his mum's steady pressure to do something more, that finally pushed him into action. The façade of things getting better that Ben put on had seemed to help Luke in a way, even though it hadn't served to help Ben at all.

Dr. Sayer joined Ben in the hall, just outside Alex's room. He made a habit of checking in on Alex every day, but left the minute-to-minute care to the doctors and nurses in the ward. It made it so that Dr. Sayer didn't have to be present if something urgent happened with Alex.

"Any news?" It was a routine question by now, and Ben wasn't honestly thinking he'd get a different response.

"Actually, there was a bit of a response this morning."

Ben froze, his breath catching in his throat. "Wha—what?"

Dr. Sayer gave him a light smile. "Yes, my thoughts exactly. I didn't believe it at first either, but… well, you'll have to see for yourself." He tipped his head toward the door, and motioned Ben in through it.

It took a double swallow, before Ben was able to convince himself to take the steps through the door. Though he had gotten used to the daily visits to see Alex, he didn't want to admit to himself how quickly the hope had been draining away. Now though…

The first glance at Alex didn't show any sort of change. He was still as pale as ever, tubes and wires going every which way, and the edge of bandages peeking out from underneath the blankets. Not being skilled enough to read any of the monitors, there was no way he could tell what anything meant. If it did indeed mean anything at all.

"Good afternoon, Alex." Dr. Sayer entered the room, with the exact same greeting as he had used day after day, and Ben wasn't entirely sure how the man managed it. "I brought your friend along. Ben's been visiting every day, and he's been long awaiting something like this."

Ben found himself holding his breath as he watched the doctor interact with his patient. The first batch of tests had absolutely no meaning to Ben, aside from the fact that Dr. Sayer verbally noted that the heart rate had steadied out. After a few more moments, Dr. Sayer did the real test. A pinch on the arm stirred an almost immediate reaction from Alex. His hand pulled away, just slightly, and an entire body jerk followed soon after.

"There we go." Dr. Sayer smiled again, and Ben couldn't help but grin as well. It was the best sign in weeks. "It's a great start for Alex. It means that he's working his way to waking up, even if he's not quite ready yet." He started to move toward Alex's head, but an almost inaudible change in pitch of one of the machines stopped him in his tracks.

Ben paused as well, but for different reasons. It seemed too much to ask for… but something told Ben that _something_ was happening. Alex's hand contracted slightly, before relaxing, and another whole body shudder followed. His eyelids fluttered, before settling back, calm once more.

Ben shared a glance with Dr. Sayer, and stepped forward at the doctor's encouraging nod. He grasped onto Alex's free hand, rubbing at the back of it, unsure of his next move. "Al-alex? Hey, it's okay…" He rubbed at the hand, and was rewarded with a full body twitch and the renewed fluttering of eyelashes. "You can wake up now. You're safe here. Dr. Sayer's been watching after you, helping you get better. So, it's okay now. Everyone's safe. You've just got to wake up, so the rest of us can relax as well."

The minor signs of consciousness stuck around for the nearly five minutes that Ben spent talking to Alex. He just kept talking soothing nonsense to Alex, wondering if it would have any other effects. It did. At the end of the five minutes, much sooner than either person present in the room expected, Alex's eyes fluttered open.

Ben stared into the confused expression for a full five seconds, before breaking into an amazed smile. Alex's eyes darted around as much of the room as he could see, before his expression screwed into one of distress. His hand jerked in Ben's grip, struggling as much as his weakened muscles allowed him to.

"Shh… it's okay, Alex. It's not as bad as all that. You're okay here. You're safe." Ben continued to stroke the back of Alex's hand, and was rewarded with a slight calming. "Just don't worry about it, okay? They're taking care of you here."

Alex's hand tightened around Ben's for a moment, before slacking off again. Ben earned the faintest of smiles from Alex, before his eyelids fluttered shut again, and he slipped asleep. This time it was clear that Alex was in a slightly different state of mind than before. He was sleeping, not unconscious. There was a difference.

Dr. Sayer checked Alex over quickly, before motioning out the door to Ben. "In all honesty, I hadn't expected to see him awake at all. Not for a number of days at least. This is a very good sign, and I suspect that we'll see more and more of it over the next few days…"

Ben shook his head slightly, still not quite believing what had happened. He had been hoping for weeks that there'd be some sign of life from Alex, but he hadn't… hadn't been ready.

"—a friend nearby, to help."

Ben blinked rapidly, trying to tune back into Dr. Sayer's words. He wasn't exactly successful.

Dr. Sayer sent him a knowing smile. "You should probably stick around for a while. If Alex's is in and out of consciousness, having a friend nearby might help him stay calm. If he gets too agitated, we'll have to sedate him, and that would just serve to impair his recovery."

"Yeah… of course." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to reorganize his thoughts. "Can I… I want to tell Luke. I think… it would help him a lot."

"Go ahead." He nodded toward Alex's room. "We need to run some tests right now, but I suspect by the time you finish, we'll be finished. There's a phone at the nurses' station that you can use, if you want."

Ben nodded, took a deep breath, and retreated down the hall to the nurses' station. It only took a moment for him to locate the phone, and a glance from the nurse present gave him permission to use it. Ben dialed the number for the flat, unconsciously holding his breath as it rang. _Someone had better be home!_

_"Hello?"_

Ben let out a hasty breath, when he heard his mum's voice on the other end of the line. "Mum, it's me."

_"Ben? What's going on? Are you okay? Is… _everyone_… okay?"_

"Yeah, I'm fine mum. It's okay." Ben shook his head slightly, unable to keep the slightly hysterical grin off his face. "Listen, is Luke there? I have some news for him."

_"Well… yes… but, are you sure? You know how he is…"_

"Just get him for me, mum. Trust me."

The line dropped for a moment, but Ben could hear his mum calling for Luke in the background. After a few more seconds of waiting, Luke picked up. _"Ben? What's going on?"_

"It's okay Luke. Everything's going to be okay."

_"What?"_

Ben grinned. "Everything's going to be okay now. Alex woke up!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ahhh… happy endings. And it's a long chapter too! I'm not going to tell you how much time I spent on this chapter… just know that I rewrote parts of it three times because I felt like I was getting too technical. Oh well. The point is, we're very, very close to the end of the story. As in, the next chapter is the last chapter/epilogue all rolled into one.**

**Classes at university start soon *cough*Monday*cough*, so hopefully I'll get the last chapter off sometime next weekend. Perhaps sooner, if classes are kind. Review plenty my dear friends!**

**S.B.L.**


	39. Abnormal Normal

**Disclaimer:**_ I thought you would have figured this out by now. Alex Rider never was—and probably never will be—mine. He belongs to Anthony Horowitz._

**_Previously…_**

_After a few more seconds of waiting, Luke picked up. _"Ben? What's going on?"

_"It's okay Luke. Everything's going to be okay."_

"What?"

_Ben grinned. "Everything's going to be okay now. Alex woke up!"_

**CHAPTER 39: Abnormal Normal**

* * *

><p>Alex blinked rapidly, before squeezing his eyes shut. It was just <em>so<em> bright. He gave a sleepy smile when a hand reached up and shaded his eyes from the glare. It had been the same routine for the past three days. Alex would wake up, discover that the lights were too bright, and Ben—because it was never anyone else—would give him some sort of relief until his eyes adjusted. The adjustment period usually didn't take very long, no more than a few moments. After that, more often than not, Alex found himself just staring at the ceiling of his room when he was awake.

There was still something stuck in his throat that made it impossible to say anything, but he was generally able to get across what he wanted. Not that he was awake for long periods of time. He had only recently managed to stay awake longer than a minute, and even then, his eyelids were usually drooping heavily after trying to follow Ben's one-sided conversation. And the thought of moving… Although he knew he was heavily dosed up on painkillers, he wasn't able to forget the fiery pain from _before_.

His memories of the last few days in the compound were sketchy at best, with the pain being the only clear feeling. And it didn't help that it had since been three weeks. Three weeks of lying unconscious—and if Ben was to be believed—right on death's door. It was a small miracle that he was alive and conscious.

"Is… is he okay?" The voice was different from Ben's, but familiar still. Though where he knew it from… Alex wasn't quite sure. He knew that there were a lot of things that wasn't quite right within his mind, but he wasn't too fussed about it. Ben said it would come with time.

"Yeah. It's just the lights." There was Ben. "Hey, Alex. You've got a visitor today."

_A visitor?_ So far, Ben had been the only person he saw. Alex didn't count Dr. Sayer as a visitor… After all, he was required to check up on Alex, and those visits had been more frustrating than anything else. The only plus side to Dr. Sayer's last visit, had been the promise of removing the breathing tube in a day or so if he continued to improve. The _only_ plus.

Of course, that didn't mean that there hadn't been others present as well. Nurses sometimes drifted in as well, when he was awake. Alex's disjointed sense of time made it rather difficult to tell _when_ something had occurred and _who_ was present. He only had a vague idea of how long it had been since he last woke up, and didn't consciously remember anything that had happened during the half-aware periods between waking completely. He knew something had happened, but not what.

"Alex?" The familiar yet unfamiliar voice was back, but this time it was slightly closer to his head.

His curiosity got the better of him, outweighing the desire to not move an inch, and he rolled his head to the side. It was pathetic how much strength it took to just roll his head to the side. It certainly didn't help his overall feeling of being an invalid. The facts as they stood were rather depressing. He was only partially breathing on his own, swallowing was out of the question, staying awake longer than a few minutes was impossible, and he seemed to have lost three quarters of his muscle strength. An invalid.

So maybe moving a bit was a good idea…

With his head turned to the side—the first truly voluntary movement he had made in a long while—he was able to just barely make out the second figure at his side. After a moment longer, the person moved closer and into better focus, and Alex was able to make out the features. Features that looked strangely like Ben's…

_Luke_.

If it had been physically possible, Alex was sure he would have gasped. He was staring into the face of a _dead man_. The memories came slamming back into him at that point. Memories that he had thought he lost to the haze of pain and fever taking over his mind. But no… he could all too vividly describe the horror picture that Walker had painted for him with Luke's death.

He had watched him die.

Walker had killed him.

Alex's eyes widened and his left arm took up the urgent jerking motion he had adopted when he became agitated. _No, no, no_. Luke was dead. It couldn't be happening again. The hallucinations were supposed to be gone. He was supposed to be getting better.

"Whoa… there's nothing to be worried about, Alex." Ben grabbed a hold of the jerking arm, and tried to calm it back into submission.

The movement did nothing for Alex. He didn't want to be calmed. He wasn't about to just sit around and wait for the hallucination to attack. It always did. Unfortunately, his grip was pitifully weak, so he had no hope of dislodging Ben. Besides… there really wasn't anything he could do. He couldn't run or hide from the place, much less do anything that would get him away.

"Alex, just calm down. Everything's all right. Luke just wanted to see you for himself. Shh…" Ben reached out a hesitant second hand, and brushed the hair off his face. A second later, Alex could have sworn that Luke smiled at him. But… that wasn't right. Luke hated him. After all, Alex was the reason Luke was dead. For that matter, Ben should hate him too… None of it fit with the visual clues though.

Another hand reached out and joined Ben's, on his arm. The heat on his arm made Alex freeze, staring at it. _It felt real…_ but it couldn't be. There was no way… His arm started shaking, and not just the agitated jerk. No, this was the fearful shake. The shake that meant he was unsure of what his next move would entail. He was definitely entertaining the thought of giving into exhaustion again.

"Hey, there. None of that. It's just Luke—" Ben cut himself off and peered at Alex closely, looming overhead. "Ah… that could be a problem wouldn't it? You're confused here…" He held onto Alex's trapped hand, and rubbed the back of the palm in a soothing gesture. "Do you think that Walker killed Luke? In the compound?"

Alex's eyes darted between Ben and… Luke. His memories were fuzzy and indistinct, but along with the underlying current of terror and pain, there was sadness as well. _Loss of hope_. He managed a vague jerk of his head, wondering if the acknowledgement would be what caused Ben's anger to come out. He had never seen Ben angry…

"Ah…" Ben nodded, and smoothed his hand through Alex's hair. "It's okay Alex. They didn't kill Luke. He's okay, as you can see. You're not hallucinating again, I promise. It was a trick. Walker tricked you into thinking Luke was dead."

Alex clenched his jaw, trying to fight against the onslaught of emotions that arose at those words. Did he dare trust Ben? Was Luke really there? Alive and well? He was sure he had never wanted to speak more in his life, but the tube in his throat prevented any sort of sounds from escaping.

"See? Nothing to get worked up about. Luke's okay."

Luke moved closer, until he was right next to Alex's head. "Yeah… they didn't do anything to me. Just tossed me in with you and Leif after a while."

Alex blinked rapidly, remembering the fuzzy image of the stranger hovering over him. The one that had helped him. But Leif had been the only one… There had been another person with them. He just hadn't realized… He tightened his grip on Ben's hand, and gave a very brief and very hesitant smile in Luke's direction. He wished he could have asked the myriad of questions tumbling through his brain, but they were already starting to get mixed up again. He was reaching his exhaustion point.

Thankfully, Ben noticed. "You look exhausted Alex. We'll be here when you wake up again, okay?"

Alex glanced between the two of them, before nodding and giving into his tired eyes. It wasn't until he was almost asleep again that he realized Ben was calling him _Alex_.

* * *

><p>"Afternoon, Alex. How are you doing today?"<p>

"I'm… okay." His voice was anything but smooth, and seemed to scratch unnaturally. It had been like that ever since the tube was removed, but had slowly been getting better over the days. The speech therapist that had evaluated him, had recommended that he speak as little as possible, to give the vocal chords some more time to heal. But even if it wasn't full speech, it was better than being silent.

"I heard you've been working hard to get your upper body strength back." Dr. Sayer sent him a knowing smile. "While I know you're eager to get out of here, I want to remind you not to overdo it. I can't imagine you would like to have to stay here longer because you do something wrong. Or pull the stitches."

Alex grimaced, but nodded. The physical therapist had been adamant about working through the exercises _only_ when supervised. It had only been under threat from Ben that he actually complied. So, twice a day, someone—most often a nurse, but occasionally Ben—took him down the hall to the rehabilitation center. It was the traveling part that he disliked the most. Since he wasn't able to walk—in some ways he was lucky to even be able to sit—he had to get by with a wheelchair. A thoroughly humiliating device, in his opinion.

"How's your arm feeling?" Dr. Sayer asked, examining the edges of the dark green cast on Alex's right arm.

"Sore."

"Hmm."

Alex still wasn't entirely sure why they had delayed the surgery on his wrist until _after_ he woke up. He certainly would have enjoyed skipping over the renewal of pain from that… They had reset and pinned the bones the week before, and since then, there had been an almost persistent throb from that arm. It didn't help any that the injury in his shoulder was still slowly healing, and they had decided to cut back on the amount of painkillers he was on.

"Aside from trying to overdo it, I've heard that you're making excellent progress. Sitting unsupported now?"

"Some." It was frustrating how much time it took to overcome the result of a three week coma. Dr. Sayer had even said that the recovery could take up to the greater part of a year. At least by then, the visible injuries would be gone. But no one saw him walking unsupported within the next few weeks, especially not while his arm was still in a cast. It would be weeks before he could put any weight on the arm.

"Alex?"

Alex blinked, realizing belatedly that he had missed some sort of question from Dr. Sayer. "Hmm?"

Dr. Sayer smiled again, before patting his uninjured arm. "I was asking how your concentration is coming, but I can see that it still wanders. Do you have any trouble when Ben's talking to you?"

Alex shook his head. He really didn't zone out as often any more, but there were times that his attention wavered. When Ben was around though, he tended to have a solid focus point.

"What about with other people?"

Alex grinned sheepishly.

"I figured." He withdrew and scribbled a few things down on a clipboard before turning back to Alex. "Very well then. I'll leave you be. Get some rest. You're going to need it tonight. I heard that your buddies from the safe house are back in town and Ben's bringing them to visit."

Alex stared at the door for a few moments after the doctor left, before sliding down underneath the covers. K-unit and the others had been out of the country for a long time. It was nearing six weeks since they had been found, and only Mendelssohn had come back in that timeframe. Braden and the others had still been abroad, tracking down the errant members of Simurgh and the ex-SCORPIA members directly involved with the compound.

Ben had come with news only a few days earlier that everyone that had been in the compound was awaiting sentencing in some country, and the major players with Simurgh were locked up—or dead. The fact was—Alex was _safe_ again. He didn't need to hide under layers of protection, secluded away from all prying eyes.

Jones had even gone so far to say that he would be able to rejoin a school once he was physically capable. In the meantime, he had access to tutors and anything else he could need, once he was _mentally_ ready. Which, if Ben and Dr. Sayer had their way, wouldn't be for a number of weeks _after_ he had been released from the hospital. He was already planning to be bored in those intervening weeks.

If he was honest, he was bored _now_. It mainly stemmed from the fact that he was too tired to hold up a book to read, and the thought of watching anything on the television didn't appeal to him. Maybe one of these days Ben would get around to going through the things packed from the safe house and find the iPod. At least then, he would have music to listen to…

* * *

><p>A nap, a round of exercises with the physical therapist, and another nap later, and Alex was getting ready to eat his supper. Though the food wasn't anything exciting, it was varied enough that he didn't get bored. And after weeks of being nearly starved, any food was considered palatable. Even if it <em>had<em> been a number of weeks since then. The liquid nutrition in the weeks he was unconscious did nothing to satisfy that _hunger_.

Aside from the interaction with the nurses—something that had diminished, now that he was in a regular room—doctors, and Ben's visits, the entire hospital stay was rather lonely. The first two weeks after he had regained consciousness hadn't been so bad, since he spent the majority of his time asleep. Ben had also been around more. Now, he came in during the evenings, and sometimes in the mornings, but spent the majority of the day putting in hours at MI6. He had explained that he was anticipating taking a couple weeks to a month off once Alex was let out.

The unspoken expectation that he was to continue living with Ben had filled him with a strange sort of happiness. He wasn't quite sure _what_ it was, but the feeling hadn't left him since.

A knock on the doorframe caused Alex to look up from his plate of food, and he couldn't help but grin when he saw Ben standing there. The figure was unmistakable. It took him a moment to realize that there were others behind Ben, and he remembered what Dr. Sayer had said. Visitors. Visitors in the form of k-unit.

"Hey Alex. You up for some visitors?" Ben asked, still hovering beside the door.

"Yeah…" He nodded toward his tray of food, before attempting to clear his throat. "Don't… mind me."

Ben sent him a glance that was half amused and half suspicious as he crossed the room. "Just be careful with your voice."

Alex glared at him, and mouthed the words instead of saying them. "Yes, mum."

Ben reached over and ruffled Alex's hair, earning another glare from Alex. He drew up the chair beside the bed, before waving around the room to the others. "Good luck finding a seat, but I'm sure there's plenty around somewhere." He grinned at Alex, as the others shuffled around the room, trying to find a place to sit down. "So, how was your day? Dr. Sayer was supposed to come by today, wasn't he?"

Alex barely kept himself from rolling his eyes, and nodded. "He did." Dr. Sayer came by _every_ day.

"Any news? Or do I have to track him down myself?"

"Good progress. Don't overdo it. And…" Alex blinked at nothing, trying to dredge up the memories of the early afternoon. "Er… concentration issues."

Ben chuckled. "You zoned out on him, didn't you."

Alex shrugged, and ate some more food off his plate. An awkward silence fell, and Alex squinted at the nearest person. It appeared to be Micah. "What's new… with you lot?"

Someone to his left snorted, and Alex guessed that the imposing figure was Mendelssohn. It seemed that everyone had shown up for the evening visit. That meant that Braden was probably around somewhere as well…

"Oh, not much." Micah replied, flicking a nonexistent piece of dust off his shirt. "Running around the world catching bad guys, saving the world. You know—the usual."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Like that's… _usual_." His voice cracked slightly, and he fought to keep from coughing. He _hated_ coughing, because the irrepressible movement made everything else—particularly his still healing shoulder—hurt. "See anything interesting?"

"Most of the time we were out in the middle of nowhere." The voice came from his right, and Alex glancing in that direction, trying to discern who it was. Dmitri, perhaps. "But sometimes we made it into the cities. Simurgh had most of their people in compounds hidden outside of the cities, but there were some small bases within. So we got to see a good portion of Moscow, while we worked with the FSB."

"Yeah, and then we lost Sebastian in the streets near St. Basil's Cathedral." There was no doubt that this was Braden. "It certainly sent the FSB into a fit, especially when they found him a mile away from where he was supposed to be. I think they were more than happy when we left two days later."

Alex snorted, imagining the Russian Security Service running around, trying to find the missing SAS soldier, in a city of eleven million people—not counting any tourists present. Needle in a haystack sort of problem.

"Well, there was Paris as well." Sebastian replied. "We all got separated, got attacked by two different gangs, and the DCRI had to bail Braden and Micah out of jail for killing two of the gang members—who in truth were Simurgh operatives. They were pretty quick to get us out of the city, after that. Something about being a threat to the populace."

Everyone in the room chuckled at that, and Alex could almost imagine the various intelligence agencies around the world breathing a sigh of relief once k-unit was out of the way. Ben had kept him updated, as to where they were during the past two weeks, so he knew that they had been all over the world. Last he knew they had been Côte d'Ivoire clearing up the last of the Simurgh supporters there. Though the countries were still warring against each other and themselves, the outside antagonists had been removed from the fight. Now it was up to the countries to try to bring peace again.

It wasn't likely to come for a long while.

"How long do you all have leave for?" Ben asked, breaking into Alex's thoughts again. "You've been working pretty much nonstop for the past six months."

"One month of leave, and two weeks of retraining. Then we'll be at MI6's beck and call for two months after that. Regular duty starts up in January." Sebastian sounded relieved that their stint with MI6 was coming to an end. "I, for one, am looking forward to being able to sleep in my own house again. Ann's probably wondering if I'm ever coming home."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Ann?"

Ben snorted. "His wife."

It seemed strange to think that they all had outside lives, with relationships included. Alex had never really thought about, had always seen them as just men serving their country. But it wasn't just their country they were protecting; it was their families as well… It made them seem entirely less intimidating, although they had lost any intimidation by living with Alex for months on end. It was just another point toward their humanity.

"So what's new with you? Any idea when you're going to leave this place?"

Alex rolled his eyes, and waved toward Ben. "He would know." And it also got him off of having to talk. Of course he was doing it because the therapist had told him to limit his talking, _not_ because he was getting tired already.

No, not at all…

* * *

><p>"Ah, home sweet home." Ben turned around to find Alex scowling at him. "Oh, stop that Alex." He paused for a moment, tilting his head slightly. "Whoa, déjà vu…"<p>

Alex just shook his head in exasperation, and pushed the forward button on the wheelchair. Smithers had come through to rescue him, in a sense, by providing the powered wheelchair that was just _filled_ with nifty gadgets. He was still on standing restriction, but the hope was that he'd be able to walk—with some kind of support—after a couple more weeks of therapy. If things went well, before the last week of October. "That's because you said that the first time you brought me home."

Ben just grinned, and waved his hand down the hall. "Well… it _is_ a different flat. I've only been here for a week, you know." MI6 had arranged a larger flat for Ben, one that had enough rooms for both Alex and Luke, and a spare for when anyone came to visit. It had also been disability proofed, so that _when_ Alex was walking again, he'd have easy access to whatever he needed. "And I've spent three quarters of that time at work and at the hospital."

Alex shrugged slightly, glancing at the walls. Even though it was a new place, it felt a lot like the old flat. Only, there were more pictures around… he suspected that had to do with Mrs. Daniels influence. She had been around until just a few days earlier, visiting him once or twice in the hospital, and was now back in Liverpool. Luke was also staying with them, even though it would take him a half hour commute every morning and evening to attend classes. Alex hadn't seen him in the past week, but according to Ben, he was readjusting to normal life rather well, and was already eagerly awaiting classes starting the next week—just so he'd have something to do.

The new flat also had the added benefit that it was rather close to St. Dominic's. While he would still have to go there for physical therapy and follow-up visits, it wouldn't be a long commute.

"Luke's not going to be home for another hour, so you've got a chance to get settled in." Ben led the way to the bedroom Alex would be staying in. "The whole flat's larger, so you've got some more space in your room. Someone dropped off your things a couple of days ago, but aside from the clothes, I left most of it packed up. I'm not sure what you want to do with the rest of it. It's mostly books, and random objects."

Alex sighed and looked around the room. He had enough room to maneuver, but it didn't feel overly large either. It was comfortable… "I'll look through the books. There's a bookcase somewhere here, right?"

Ben just nodded toward the side of the desk. "Bookcase, organizing drawers in the desk, a couple of hidden compartments courtesy of Smithers, and—the item you've been bugging me about for the past week—the iPod. It's been revamped as well, and you'll find a user manual on it. It will self-delete once you reach the end of the file, so make sure you memorize the stuff."

Alex rolled his eyes, but took the iPod gratefully. At least now he could listen to music…

"I'll leave you be. Supper will be ready once Luke gets home. And don't you dare get up to stand. Dr. Sayer would have my head!"

Alex blinked slowly, leaning back in his chair. The only true advantage to being wheelchair bound was that when he got tired he could just doze off, or simply just relax the muscles in his upper back and neck. He hated the contraption, but could acknowledge its usefulness. He _knew_ he had no hope of standing longer than a few seconds, or taking more than a scant number of steps. Yes, his muscles were regaining their strength, but that didn't stop him from being frustrated by the small amounts of progress he made every day. Going from being so _active_, to being so _inactive_ was hard on him, but the physical therapist was adamant that he would eventually regain his old energy and fitness. It would just take time. And rushing it wouldn't help any.

Of course, before he could even _think_ of using crutches—or worse, a walker—he had to get the cast off his arm and regain the flexibility lost there. It was all a matter of weeks.

* * *

><p>The headlights of other cars passed by, and Alex leaned against the window. The weeks and month had come and gone—rather quickly, as far as Alex was concerned. It was nearing the end of November, and the weather outside had taken a definite chill. He was glad that he was on the inside of the car, instead of outside.<p>

Someone tapped on his window, and Alex glanced up, to see Ben grinning at him. Of course, his refuge from the cold would only last so long… it was time to get out and face the chill—if only for a short amount of time. Ben had been adamant about going out for the night, and had even managed to rope Luke into coming along as well, despite the fact that he had things due in the morning.

A blast of cold air greeted Alex as the door opened, and he couldn't help but pull his jacket tighter around himself. He found it hard to believe that a year ago he had been out in the cold for hours on a daily basis, while commuting between his flat and the bar. If he had his way—and Ben did too—he wouldn't be working again until he was much, much older. Five or six years, at the least.

"Come on, we're freezing out here." Ben said, holding out a hand in Alex's direction. "Last I checked, it was a nice balmy four degrees out here, so I'd rather not stand here any longer than necessary."

Alex rolled his eyes, and took Ben's hand. He noted proudly that he didn't sway at all once he was standing, but knew better than to take that as proof of full recovery. It was a slow process, according to the physical therapist—one that would take more than just a number of weeks and breakthroughs to get through. He knew better than to let go of Ben's arm, and was just glad that he would be able to forego the crutches for the night—even if it meant he had to lean heavily on someone's arm…

Luke snapped the door shut behind them, before walking down the sidewalk a ways, and propping the door to the restaurant open for them. It was a night of celebration, according to Ben, and Alex was inclined to just go along with the both of their antics—he knew they had been itching to go out sometime. After all, it wasn't every day that he managed to walk around the therapy room unsupported and unaided. While it was progress he would have loved to have weeks earlier, Alex had learned rather quickly that his frame of mind directly influenced how well he did. The more he brooded over what he _couldn't_ do, the less he _did_ manage to do at the appointments. When he focused on what he _could_ do, things just tended to go that much better.

Despite the fact that he had managed walking unsupported for a short while, there was no way he could have even made the distance from the car to their seats in the restaurant. He would have had to rest somewhere along the way. At least with a person to lean on, he was able to manage the distance without his legs feeling like they were going to give out. They just trembled a bit on the last few steps.

He slid into the booth seat, before reaching up and pulling off his glasses. They had fogged up, coming in from outside, and he sent a frown in the offending object's direction.

Ben snorted, half hiding behind his menu. "You know, I don't understand why those bug you so much. You wore glasses as a part of your disguise for months. What's so bad about the real things?"

Alex rolled his eyes, before wiping the lenses off and slipping them back on. "Those were just frames and clear lenses… everything's blurry without _these_." It had taken a number of weeks before anyone realized that Alex was having trouble seeing things. He had always brushed the fuzziness of his vision off as being tired—which he was, most of the time—and he hadn't really thought about it more. That is, until Dr. Sayer asked him a few pointed questions about why he was always squinting at things…

The introduction of glasses, he found, was both a blessing and a curse. He enjoyed being able to see things clearly again, and hadn't truly realized how bad it was until he could switch between having his glasses on and off. There was a marked difference. Of course, there was a difference between wearing glasses because he needed them to stay undetected, and wearing glasses because he actually needed them to see…

"At least they do their job, right?"

Alex just rolled his eyes again, before studying the menu before him. He hadn't actually paid any attention to what the place was called, and let out a snort of amusement. It was a _French_ restaurant. Thankfully not one of the upscale ones that only the chef—and those that actually spoke French—knew what the words on the menu meant. Ian had taken him to a couple of those, and he had been less than impressed with the food. Then again, that might just have been the eight year old wishing for something that wasn't served in mystery sauce…

Ben nudged him under the table with his foot. "What're you laughing at?"

"A French restaurant. Really?"

"What? It was a choice between here and the Vietnamese place. Luke chose here."

Luke tapped the menu thoughtfully. "I didn't want Asian—we've had that so much in the past few months. And besides, I think the Tartiflette sounds delicious."

Alex smothered a grin at the mispronunciation and nodded, before skimming over the menu thoughtfully. "The Pot-au-feu looks good too." He definitely needed something to warm him up… and soup would do just that.

"In that case, are we ready to order?" Ben asked, setting his menu down. Alex suspected that he had been here a couple of times, judging by the way that he had merely skimmed the menu before nodding to himself.

"Might as well."

A moment later, a waiter came by to take their orders and to bring them their drinks. Ben got some kind of quiche, along with an appetizer for them all. Once the waiter had moved on, taking their menus with them, Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. He studied the front of it for a moment, before grinning and passing it across the table to Alex.

"Mrs. Jones apologizes that it took so long—granted it was a lot quicker than what most have to wait… Apparently, even she has to do a bit of sleight of hand to get it done properly, without people asking too many questions. And getting it dated correctly."

Alex raised an eyebrow, and looked down at the unassuming envelope. He swallowed, wondering just how much of his future rested on the contents of the envelope. He knew exactly what would be inside, and wasn't entirely sure he _wanted_ to see. But of course, this was probably the true reason why Ben wanted to go out—he had just been looking for an excuse that wouldn't make Alex suspicious.

This meant that either the results were good or they would need a way to drown their sorrows…

"Don't just stare at it. I want to know what you got." Luke said, nudging him under the table with his foot. "I put good hours in over the spring, so I'd like to know if _my_ hard work paid off."

Alex rolled his eyes, before slitting open the envelope and pulling out the piece of paper. He was studiously not looking at the marks… _This is to certify that the candidate named below was awarded the following grade(s) in the subject(s) shown: Alexander Rider of Private School._

"Well?"

Alex waved him off, before skimming over the grades, and relaxing in relief. They weren't that bad. In fact, they were probably rather good… some definitely better than he had expected. "It's not bad… I got an A* in maths…" It seemed that his months of studying had paid off. Even though there had been a gap of two months in the midst of it, he had still pulled off good grades.

Luke pulled the paper away, and skimmed over it as well. "_Not bad_? You got better grades than I did! And A*'s on all your languages… that shouldn't be possible, since you started Spanish and German only a month before you took the test."

"Well, he _is_ fluent." Ben leaned over his brother's shoulder, trying to read the paper. "What's your worst grade…? Ah, history. No surprise there I suppose."

Alex shrugged. He hadn't been expecting anything good with history. The fact that he had managed a passing grade—barely—was enough to make him happy. And the languages weren't surprising at all. Adding the two new languages had been a way to get back into studying and categorizing information he already knew, before moving on to relearning what he had covered over the spring and summer. He had been almost ready then for the tests, so it hadn't taken too long before he was ready again.

"Ah, look. Jones even sent her own note." Ben pulled the smaller slip of paper out of the envelope. "Says that there's a school nearby that's willing to take you in January if you're feeling up to it. You should be caught up, or close to it, by then. And Dr. Sayer thinks you'll be more than ready by then."

Alex grinned. "Finally." Going back to a normal school would definitely be nice. His contact with larger groups of people in the last nine months had been severely limited, so it would definitely take some adjusting, but he knew he could do it. He had been able to adjust to everything else, after all.

Luke thumped his head down on the table dramatically. "Happy to be going back to school… what is this world coming to?"

"Says the person that was already studying his textbooks by the time I got out of the hospital." Alex shot back.

"But you're a… a _teenager_."

"And technically, so are you." Alex just grinned at the annoyed expression on Luke's face. "Besides, I _like_ the subjects I'm studying."

The waiter came at that moment—cutting off any retort from Luke—bringing their drinks and saying that the food would be out shortly.

"If you two are done _bickering_…" Ben raised his glass toward Alex, grinning at him. "A toast then, to starting over and being normal—no matter how _abnormal_ normal might be."

They all chinked glasses together and Alex couldn't help but grin again. Yes, things were becoming normal again—no matter how abnormal that normal was.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a person sitting behind Ben and Luke raise a glass in his direction, before winking. He recognized the person immediately as Dmitri, and guessed that he was on protection duty for the night. K-unit was quickly reaching the end of their MI6 service, but somehow, Alex wondered if they might be losing another member to the permanent grasp of MI6…

He wasn't unnerved by the visible escort, as he might have once been. Jones had explained, the one time she visited him in the hospital, that even though the majority of the threats were gone, he would still be under observation whenever he went out—just in case. It would likely be that way for many months, she had said, at least for a full year.

Alex couldn't stop another grin from appearing. He wondered who they'd subject to guard duty once he returned to school…

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that's it folks! The very end of _Starting Anew_. It's been a long—and fun—ride, and it's somewhat bittersweet to reach the end of the story. I had no idea it would turn out to be this long, and had been aiming for something about half the length… as you can see, that didn't happen.**

**Just in case you're wondering, Alex gets out of the hospital at the beginning of October. LSE (Luke's university) starts on the second week of October (or thereabouts). So he was in the hospital for about two months, but then he was unconscious for nearly half that time… heh. As of now, I have no plans for a sequel, but perhaps a few ideas for a one-shot or two… we'll see. If you really want a sequel (or a one-shot), tell me your ideas—who knows, I might become inspired by something you say!**

**Thank you so much for sticking with it, and bringing in the reviews. I never thought my writing would get this kind of response, and you all inspired me so much. I have another full-length idea that I've been toying with since June, so you might see that out in the next couple of months. Or not… it really depends on if I get the inspiration/time to work on it.**

**One more review request—could you please tell me what you liked, didn't like, or thought I could improve on? Throughout the whole story? Did you like the antagonists? Did it seem too fast paced anywhere? Just give me some general thoughts. I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing.**

**Thank you again for being such a supportive community!**

**S.B.L.**

**P.S. Okay, so I have a one-shot for this story that I'm working on. It should be out by the end of the month (I know, that's a long time, but I'm at University!). So keep your eyes open for **_The Target_**!**


End file.
